The Things Raven Sees
by P0ST
Summary: The things Raven sees, the things Raven hears.
1. Tea

**One day I got bored. On the second day, I got bored and lazy. Then on the third day, Mary Magdelene and friends rushed into the open tomb of my brain to see that all good literary senses had risen from the dead and flown the coop. This is more or less the true story behind the conception of 'The Things Raven Sees', the fanfic which proves that no matter how abysmally epic and train wreckish 'These Black Eyes' was, I still hadn't done enough review whorage on a daily basis. So I took a bottle of angst, a beaker of unimaginative syntax, and frothed them together on a nightly basis--in little snippets before a nap, or a work shift, or a ceremonious genocide of brain cells--the resulting atrocity, of course, being a 100 chapter long conveyor belt of drivel that sees me far too often acting out some bizarre, transgendered fantasy of being a petite, purple-haired she-witch and not the actual oversized, hairy, basement lemur child I really am. Yuck. For a good drinking game, take a swig at the end of any chapter that concludes with Raven stripping down to a nightie and laying down to sleep in satin sheets--I mean what in the McGoogolJesusCrunchAFudge?**

**Original Stats: (First Publish Date: 3.28.05) (Last Publish Date: 3.21.06) (Chapters: 100) (Words: 131, 570) (Reviews: 1, 173)**

**And in answer to your question: No, they are not related.**

* * *

There is a ghost-like dance in the way the steam rises from the tea. And I know I've heated it for too long. I used to like drinking tea cold, but somewhere that all changed. Drinking tea feels better if I know there was some time involved in making it. Some warm, meaningless time. The hot liquid feels like it heals me. Exorcises me. But too many seconds, and it's scalding. I don't deserve to burn. At least, I don't want to.

"Hey? Any of y'all see the remote? I can't find the freakin' thing!"

I quietly take the cup and saucer and walk over to the corner of the room. There's a booth and table there. A vase of pretty flowers Starfire gathered from the rock bluffs surrounding the Tower. Weeds, really. The happy alien doesn't know better. Nobody has the spite to tell her to throw the things away. So there they sit. Beautifully ugly. Awkwardness sublime.

"Yoohoo! Remote? Come on, people! The Knight Rider marathon's about to come on!"

I sit down. I sit. I produce from under my soft blue cloak a small brown book. A leathery cover with the runes of Azarath burned onto it. There is beautiful calligraphy stringing forth poems and lyrics on the spotty, ivory sheets inside. The words are indistinct in the English translation. Like lonely etchings in the surface of a two-way mirror. I can't remember if I wrote them or not. Or perhaps it was a friend of my mother's anticipating me. Anticipating this haphazard bird cage wedged between dimensions."

"Raven! Darn it, girl, how long have you been sittin' there?"

I sigh. The sigh sinks into a groan. The groan dwindles into a drone: "Since the bleeding earth cooled…"

"This is a matter of life and death! I can't find the remote for the life of me!"

"Cyborg….."

"I could have sworn I left it on the couch! And it ain't under any of cushions. I bet that sniveling elf fell asleep as a snake and mistook it for an egg again! Dammit! Second time this month!"

"Cyborg………."

"I should a lousy tracker on the thing! It just figures…since nobody else around here seems to give a darn about helping me find it when the remote turns up missing!"

"Cyborg………………"

"Huh?"

"………have you ever considered simply….installing a remote in your arm?"

"…………………….whoah……….," a light comes over his face and he smiles happily before skipping back across the room. "Yeah! _Yeah!_ Yeah yeah yeah….Rae, you're beautiful! Woo!"

I take a deep breath. I gaze at my book again. But the pages are suddenly out of focus. The meter of the poems and the beat of my heart is out of sync and I suddenly wonder how I ever was able to translate and connect Azarathian and English to begin with. There are silly, simple things that oftentimes confound us. But only when we want to be confounded.

Somewhere in the distance, Cyborg chuckles to himself. Giddy as a school girl.

I take a sip of hot tea.


	2. Car

﻿

The park flashes by. And it is beautiful. The walkways and the fountains and the lampposts slowly flickering to life under the shadow of approaching night. Children and family members walk happily along the lush paths in each other's presence. They seem so incredibly happy…so incredibly detached from the turbulence that transpired just a few blocks away. A bank robbery that we had just stopped.

"You ever notice how there's always one guy who never talks?"

"What's that, B.B.?"

"When you have a bunch of thugs and robbers…," Beast Boy gestures from where he sits besides me in the T-Car. "One of them's never gonna talk. And usually he's the big and tall one who loves to smash you over the head with a baseball bat or mace!"

"Batman always said that the quiet ones are who you've got to look out for," Robin smirks from the other side of Beast Boy. "They'll sneak up on you when you're too preoccupied taking out the creeps who heckle you. You see? Bad guys have a system…"

"Bad guys have a concussion!" Beast Boy barks. "What matters is we thrashed them good, right?"

"I'm just saying. It's always best to think in review of a day's worth of crime fighting. Successful or not."

"But just hold the fort now…," Cyborg murmurs. He glances in the rear view mirror. "Beast Boy….which of the goons we just throttled was a 'quiet one'?"

"Ya know? The….the big guy! He was tackling Starfire at the end of the whole thing!"

"He was?"

"Yeah. The…ya know….Hispanic looking one!"

"Hispanic?"

"Beast Boy….he was not Hispanic."

"Huh? Well he looked it."

"What do you mean _he looked it_?"

"Well, I dunno! He didn't talk! I couldn't tell if he had an accent or not. I bet he couldn't even speak English! Heh…"

"Technically, because you have an accent doesn't mean you're Hispanic…"

"Dude…what does it matter anyways? These are bank-robbing creeps we're talking about. Why the sudden case of political correctness?"

"Perhaps the cretin Beast Boy is referring to was Herspanic?"

"Ha ha ha ha….no, Star. Not the same thing."

"Are human beings not all unique and special in their own differences?"

"That's what we're talking about, Starfire."

"No it isn't! We're talking about thugs who don't talk much! Cyborg's the one turning it into a social studies discussion."

"I don't think he was Hispanic. Just because his skin was a little tan—"

"Dude! I'm not that shallow!"

"Heh. You know, I never thought of it….but just what are you, Beast Boy?"

"Huh?"

"Are you white? Black? Asian? What are you?"

"Ha ha ha!"

"Hey! I'm a lean, green robber-throttling machine!"

"No, I mean before."

"Dude! It ain't easy being green!"

"He's Caucasian, Cyborg."

"Dah! Robin, how do you know that?"

"Garfield Logan. Parents: Anglo-Saxon. Mixed Scottish and German background added in."

"Pfft. No fair. Just because he wears a cape he thinks he can become Big Brother."

"Hehehehe! I am of the Amber race, am I not?"

"Amber race….heheh….whatever you say, Star."

"Anyone on your planet Hispanic?"

"Beast Boy!"

"What? Just a question!"

"Blah. I'm pulling in through a DQ. Anyone want a shake?"

"Oooh! I do! I do! I desire to indulge in the shakes!"

"Same here, Cyborg."

"Count me out, dude. I'm too contemplative to drink anything."

"Suit yourself, little man. Raven?"

"Raven?"

"Someone hit the Raven! I think she's stuck!"

"Hehehehehe."

"Ha ha ha ha!"

I sigh. The park is gone. I gaze beyond the lights of cars in a drive through and remain still. Silent.

Sleepy.


	3. Bed

﻿

I find myself falling asleep a lot these days. The nights come earlier and the light fades faster. Independent of summer or winter. The only equinox we ever have is in our calculators.

Things are darker. The curtains in my room. The corners of the Tower's hallways. Even the gnarled wrinkles in the trees. I spy a silent obsidian creeping up to the surface of everything in my life.

And I'm not scared of it. I don't do 'fear'. I am simply tired. Sleepy. Exhausted.

Sometimes it's hard to keep my eyes open. The lectures. The T-Car rides. The fights. The fights. The fights…

I want to roll over and die. Drink some tea. Roll over and die some more. And then call it a night, perhaps.

Perhaps not.

When Lady Azar first taught me meditation, I used to fall asleep all the time. Mother joked that I was a lazy girl when she was alive. 'How could a demon ever be housed in such a cute little sleepy head?' She loved me. I loved her too….as long as the blood still ran in her veins.

I've learned to stay awake during meditation. Much to my chagrin too. Because now that I can meditate and center myself and collect my thoughts and actually do everything that is fully invested in my power to keep my soul-self and flesh shell in balance….someone or something comes to wake me up from a nap I am absolutely not having.

"Ever seen him asleep?" Terra rambles.

"Nnngh…," I grunt, rising to the surface of my levitating stance on the corner of the rooftop. "Who?"

"Beast Boy."

"What about him?"

"Hehehe….ever seen him sleep?"

"No, Terra. And I promise you…I'll never have the opportunity to."

"Awwww. Well I have!"

"Wow. You lucky girl."

"Just this morning, he was nestled up on the couch with the Gamecube controller tossed on the floor like a forsaken teddy bear. And….ya know…I-I've never seen him asleep outside of being a cat or a dog or a bunny rabbit. But this time he was sleeping natural."

"In the nude?"

"NO! Elf-mode, you silly goose!"

"Gee. What a surprise."

"It's kinda….wyrd seeing Beast Boy as he normally is….only….st-staying in one place for a long period of time. I mean, he wasn't loud or goofing around or being an overall jackass…..he was just lying still. Peaceful like. A green fuzzy pillow in his own right."

"Hmm. Sounds promising, actually."

"Hehehehe! Somehow I knew you'd say that."

"Why in Azar's name are you interrupting my meditation to tell me this….?"

"I just….well…."

"I'm happy, Raven. For the first time since I rejoined you guys….I-I no longer feel anxious or concerned or afraid of my powers. I just feel….happy. Peaceful, kinda like Beast Boy. On the inside. And just seeing him like that made me feel that more complete. It's like you're being hugged on the inside. You know what I mean?"

"No. I don't."

"Well, I had to tell someone. But….hehe…no use telling Beast Boy. I didn't want to wake the guy up!"

"So naturally you had to come up here and shake me loose of my concentration."

"What? Not like it's hard for you and stuff!"

"Terra, you have no idea."

"Pffft! Lighten up, girl. Look at me! I learned to get loose a little!"

"It takes only one pebble on a mountainside to start an avalanche…"

"Say what?"

"Nothing."

"Heh. You're wyrd. I'm going to go see what Cyborg's up to."

"Yeah….you do that…."

As Terra runs off towards the stairwell, I can't help but wince.

I glance up and my eyes thin. The sun is unbelievably bright. The day is unbearably hot.

I yawn. I'm tired. I want to go to bed. Early? So what….

Here in my room it is darkest of all. That is the way I've always wanted it to be. But today, there is something about the shadows that stab me. Even as I stand here at the foot of my bed, I shudder in the middle of stripping of my soft blue robe and wonder…

The world is full of Terras, and equally so of Beast Boys. The awake and the asleep. The living and the dead. So many people looking over each other's shoulders and wondering how the gears inside the collapsed dolls turn and grind and grate. And something in the deepest, coldest part of me is still sleeping while Lady Azar teaches me the sacred arts of meditation while my mother giggles away into the corner that is ever so regularly being replaced by rising, rising, rising obsidian.

On the brink of the endless night, do I have someone looking over my shoulder while I'm in bed and smiling?

I lie down. I slide under the covers. The veil of somnambular impulse dwindles into a steady stone oozing my limbs into soft corners of the bed and with a shudder I cannot help but pull the covers completely over my petite self…

And shiver in hiding until the darkness lulls me away from the burning Sun.


	4. Cut

﻿

"Owwwwwie! Ow…Ow….Owwww…"

"Hold still…," I drone. I try to position my magic aura over Starfire's hand, but the Tamaranian girl twitches and cringes so much that it is next to impossible for me to position my finger over hers. "If you keep moving, I can't heal it."

"I am most apologetic," Starfire murmurs, interchangeably biting her lips with separate rows of teeth. "I am not the most fond of pain."

"Starfire, it's a _papercut_ for goodness' sake…."

Starfire clenches the edge of a desk in the Main Room while she wills her 'injured' finger towards my healing embrace. "I am quite aware of the infinitesimal nature of my wound. But I do believe Beast Boy was accurate when he said 'even the smallest things sting like a female dog'."

"You two…I swear….you overexagerrate."

"On Tamaran, we have no need for tiny hair-thin parchments with a proclivity to minutely slice the epidermal layer of skin. Paper products have been replaced with data pads complete with every volume of Tamaranian poetry known to our people."

"Every volume of your poetry, huh?" I utter as I enclose my glowing palm around her finger finally. "That must involve a lot of memory space."

"Truly? When I was a young Tamaran'ling, I ravenously consumed four volumes of the Epic of Fiml'orp. A mere seventeen thousand stanzas. Hardly voluminous. I was quite behind in my studies at the time."

"Uh……….I understand, Starfire…."

I remove my hand from her finger, turn the digit over, and smile ever so slightly. "There. All done."

Starfire examines her amber appendage. "Raven, we are truly blessed with your healing touch. I do hope you are aware of our gratitude."

"Don't mention it," I murmur. "In fact, don't touch at all. I was in the middle of making tea."

She talks anyways: "I am sorry for making a precipice out of a gopher. But the cuts of paper that this planet Earth seems to be full of are extravagantly torturous."

I shake my head and sigh. "I'll never understand it, Starfire."

"Understand what, Raven?"

I gaze at her and gesture with a gentle hand. "You're the second most durable member of our team. You take beatings constantly and manage to weather the forces assaulting you with your Tamaranian strength. You survive bullets, brick walls, grenades, and propelled rockets. But papercuts send you squealing? I fail to understand how you could suddenly be so victimized by such little pain."

"It is not my intention to be the most….sensitive member of our team," Starfire utters with an embarrassed rosiness to her already rosy cheeks. For being the brunt of so many villainous attacks of force, I find it all the more precious to adore moments when I am not experiencing pain. Something so minimal as a cut from paper interrupts the bliss of a calm lull liken unto that which we are experiencing now. And I suppose I find that……f-frustrating…."

I bite my lip. "I'm sorry, Starfire. I had no idea it was all so painful to you…."

"Indeed…," she then smiles softly at me. "Pain is relative, though."

My eyes go soft. And I can't help but inhale.

Yeah…

Pain _is_ relative.

**Wree! Wree! Wree!**

Starfire gasps and flashes her green eyes towards the computer screen. "Trouble!"

I run up to the console. Starfire flies up behind me. I type in a flurry on the keyboard and bring up an outline of the City. "It's Cinderblock….Cinderblock _and_ Overload."

"The two of them…," Starfire murmurs. "What nefarious purpose could bring forth their coupling?"

"They're advancing on the military compound just west of town. The Army may be their target. They'd _need_ to double their forces to so much as cross the outer fence of the site. This is bad. I'll contact the others."

Starfire bites her lip. She is rubbing her finger absent mindedly…gazing at the profiles of the metaphysical fiends.

"……..," I look at her. I place a hand on her shoulder.

She looks at me, unhindered by the flashing alarm lights all around us.

"Stick by me and my force fields this time…," I tell her. "I promise….you've had all the pain you'll need to have today…."

"……," she smiles gently. "That sounds….acceptable."

"Come on!" I urge her with me as I dash towards the elevator.

And somewhere in the spinning of the walls and elevator doors I see her flickering hair like a spurt of blood from a deep cut and sooner than naught her voice is entreating Robin and Terra from beyond the hallways to join our charge and it burns the most to think that the heat of her desperation is fueled by the fire of my voice to begin with.

And it stings. In a good way.

Tonight, I sweat a lot during the battle. I sweat a lot, and I take a long shower in the evening before going to bed.


	5. Crush

﻿

"Come onnnnnnnn, Raven! You've never had a crush on someone? At least once?"

"Infatuations….are pointless….," I drone into the open pages of Poe. "Especially in the field of work the Titans are in. We can't afford to intimately share emotions because…."

"….because there are always bad guys out there who would exploit our love interests to get the better of our irrational selves…blah blah blah…," Besat Boy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, we all heard Robin's speech. I'm surprised you didn't _write it_ for him."

Page flip. "Then why are you asking?"

"Cuz it's not like we actually LISTEN to him!" Beast Boy smirks. "So admit it, girl. You've had the hots for someone while saving this City. At least once! Haven't you?"

"There's nothing to admit." Page flip. "It would be wrong of me to 'have the hots' for anyone. Those types of emotions are too dangerous for me. I would rather freeze myself in stone than ever fall in love and risk rupturing my mental balance to the point that everyone around me would be in danger from demonic influences." Page flip.

"Jeesh. What an ice princess. Ya know, wouldn't it be simpler to say 'I abstain because of STDs'?"

"…….," I gaze up at him. Frowning. Artery pulsing in my temple. "You are bordering annoyance…."

"Hehehe! I can't help it, Rae! You're so easy to fluster and you just won't admit it!"

"Feh."

"Someone as pretty and mature as you deserves to have some adorable hunk sweeping you off your feet!"

"Try flattering yourself instead. It'll get you farther."

"Farther than you've ever gone!"

I grit my teeth. "Beast Boy, do me a favor and quickly grow a tail so that I can tie it in a knot _around your neck."_

"Are these the 'demon influences' you keep warning the Titans about?"

"No. This is me _pissed off."_

"Hehehehe! Like I said, easily flustered."

"Nnnngh." Page flip. "How did you ever become a Titan?"

"I learned to look at the bright side of things." He smirks. "While there's always Slade or Brother Blood hanging around to give us a concussion, there's also always some pretty damsel in distress somewhere just waiting to be saved by yours, fuzzy truly!"

I drone: "I saw Terra this morning ransacking the ladies' room in a desperate exodus for a tampon." _Page flip!_ "How's that for distresss?"

Beast Boy winces. "Eh…..note quite."

"Can't you see I'm reading?"

"Yes."

"Ugh…."

"You're always saving people, Raven. More than any other Titan, you're whisking people away in that wonderful force field of yours. Wasn't there at least one handsome guy in one of those groups whom you fancied while flying to safety?"

"Nope."

"A handsome…girl?"

"Cute. But doubly nope."

"Hey, what about that Goth Guy?"

"……," I raise my head. A pause. Page flip. "Triply nope."

"Daaaah! Jeez! You're impossible."

"Hrm….indeed I am," I say.

Silence.

"……," I gaze up from the Poe.

Beast Boy is gone.

I'm alone in the room.

"…….," I return to the book…flipping a page.

The Titans are young. The Titans are hormonal. Try as we might, we cannot help but bear the sight and breath of each other. Oftentimes those sights may be numb and those sights may be cold but all to often it is otherwise. Being empathic, I sense infatuations coming from the others in waves. Their thoughts and feelings are like bees. Swarming around. Stinging once and dying each and breeding silence until the queen breeds more drones to buzz through the air and rekindle the tension.

Beast Boy had a crush on me. It was the first time we ever met. The initial two weeks of our teaming up with the Titans was one horrific escapade after another of the green elf flirting with me and my inventing nonlethal ways of getting him the Hell out of my sight. When it came time for Beast Boy to realize I was less interested in him than a stork would be interested in a pool of lava, things quieted. Not his voice, of course. He still to this day pesters me like a gnat performing stand-up. But his heart has quieted. In fact, it's turned to a sort of bitter silence. I think that, over time, my attempts to put him to rest only hurt him more. He took my distance personal, and every rational rebuttal and taciturn phrase I had to answer his sociability only emasculated him further into some cold hole of shame and regret. We will never be close friends now. We will never be closer than teammates. And as much as I wanted that and still want that, the last thing I ever truly wanted to do was hurt him. Even if all I did was prompt him to hurt himself.

The other boys have gone smoothly. Cyborg has had a thing for me. He still does, come to think of a few restlessness nights, I sense him dreaming and I am in those visions, more or less clothed. But he is very mature about his 'crush'. He never brings it up to me nor desires to make anything real of his feelings. Which is just as well. Usually those same 'visions' that I'm in….Starfire is in also. I do my best not to touch that.

Robin is difficult to read. He—like most boys—has splitting bursts of attraction torwards the opposite gender at random moments. But he tries hard to repress it. He barely gets any sleep. He lies to us that he's rested well overnight for the next day of training. Everyone believes him, but I see right through his mask and see a pair of young blue eyes uncertain of his future. Robin doesn't know if he's going to take Batman's path or his own. Deep down, he wants to get to know someone intimately. He wants to call someone his 'beloved' and have a family and maybe even have children. But in a way, he punishes himself in favor of a puritanical ideal of vigilantism. And more than anyone else on my team, I am worried about him. And I believe he has sensed that from me. Back when we were the only two Titans working together, he came very close to thinking—for a span of a day—about there being more for the two of us. But maturity grows strong between two birds of a feather. We realized we were distant and had to grow more distant. And thus two heroes were reborn into separate currents that still carry us to some unfathomable depths today. And from what I can tell, Robin is swimming just as well as I can.

In fact, even Starfire is more infatuated with me than Robin is. But I don't want to touch that either. Aliens are….unique.

There simply isn't and will never be anyone that I'd have a thing for. Human or otherwise. This dimension or the next.

Flip page.

Except for maybe Roderick Usher.

He needs a hug.


	6. Life

﻿

I was five and a half years old when I told my mother that I no longer wanted to live. It was on one dark day of many dark days over the Granite Fields of Azar, training to meditate. She swiftly interrupted the session, knelt down, and caressed me with a concerned inquiry. I told her that as long as I live, I would be a gateway for Trigon to come into this world and nothing else. Keeping me alive would only be delaying the inevitable doom of Azarath and dimensions beyond it. Someday I would be forced to kill the ones I loved.

My mother told me that all life was precious, and mine most of all. And she told me that even the most somber soul in Azarath knew where death had a beginning and an end far from the gentle warmth of breath. As she taught me, I saw in her eyes the glinting shine of someone who had been carved out of a weeping shell and somehow sewn back together like rough patches of skin in an inverse puzzle. And at the center of the labyrinth was her gentle hug and inside the crook of her arms I felt that warmth more than I could ever believe it and for once my young troubled mind finally learned to meditate.

And when the years drew by and I grew up into an adept of the Book of Azar, my mother grew distant from me but I felt her warmth in all eyes and arms surrounding. Life was hidden between the gentle swish of robes and cloaks and blue, blue, blue, blue history melting into the air all around me with the flicker of candlelight as joints and the chants of elders as glue and all things fossilized into a living chain of history of souls and graves stacked up on top of each other to form the most beautiful library all Existence has ever seen.

And when Trigon broke into Azar and slew every pupil I ever worked with and every teacher that ever embraced me and every courtyard I ever meditated in, the fires burned bright into the air and I saw the very moment I emerged from my hiding place the smoldering bodies and burnt-black flesh of all that was moving and breathing. The gnarled flesh was warm, and the heat spoke to me my mother's words in the disguise of crackling embers off of bone and the gentle moaning of fading corpses two heaps away in the charred shadows of the place. And I felt myself and I felt my beating heart and the gateway throbbing within; challenged but not attained. And I knew that this one drop of blood in all Azar was precious beyond measurement and I fought to preserve it and my mother and my teachers through the very pulsing of my limbs.

And when I came to this world and I saw the horror that Slade was spreading and the terrorism of bank robbers and murderers and mad bombers threatening women, children, and schools, and all walks of life, I swore to protect the very blood that felt like lava to the touch of my cold, Azarathian skin regardless of the darkness inside of me and the tragic land that I came from. I gave up my life, my sanity, my safety, and my identity to chase down the malevolent fiends of the world in a hope that I'd never have to again see so many helpless bodies—their eyes decayed gray—lying on the endless pavement with that smell that wrought out the bile in me and made me realize that the last thing I would ever do or ever want to do is commit suicide and join the stench in a manner that would undermine my mother, hurt my friends, and cancel whatever joy I have left to indulge in this world.

And that is why now that I'm standing here on the street corner with the fires of Slade's latest bomb still flickering in the shell of a broken building and with the paramedics walking over to the red-drained body of a fourteen-year-old girl dumped across the street from the explosion,lying battered on a sidewalk to be draped over with a plastic, black sheathe with Beast Boy in the distance whispering to Cyborg:

"Man…gotta suck to die when you're tits are still that small."

"Snnkkkt….oh gawds. Ha ha ha ha!"

….I want to kill them.

I want to kill them….and it doesn't frighten me.

It doesn't frighten me one bit.


	7. Paint

﻿

I dip the brush into yet more finer yellow and earthen tones before applying gentle strokes to the easel. I have been needing extra amber and platinum hues for today. But right now—as I actually make the brush strokes—I cannot help but feel like it is overkill. Purposeful overkill. Something unavoidable, but still aesthetic. In a silent…calculated way….

"Hehehe….I must say, Raven…," Terra smirks from where she sits on a stool across from me. "I love just how serious and focused you look…"

"Shhhh….," I hiss. "Stay…..Still….."

"But I am! I am!" she utters. Posed in her black and yellow Titan garb. Her hands in her lap. Her body relaxed and her head turned ever so slightly to the side as if to regard me in feminine happenstance. The lights of her desert-themed room illuminate her front, side, and side…giving me a perfect perspective for the portrait. "I'm just talking, is all!"

"Your mouth moves…," I murmur. Stroking. Brushing. Eyeing her. Brushing some more. I stand before an easel with the brush and palette. I have my robe removed and draped over a nearby chair. I always paint in just my leotard. I'm not entirely sure why. "Believe it or not, I do have to paint your mouth at one time or another. You don't want me messing that up, do you?"

She smiles. "It can't be that complicated."

"You know Beast Boy's portrait?"

"Yeah….."

"Remember how blurred the face is?"

Terra tries to wince….but then tries even harder to not wince. "Ouch. Okay….I'll be still."

And—naturally—she is true to her for word the entirety of two and a half minutes. I am gently guiding the gliding contours of her silken-gold hair when she speaks up and says:

"I never once imagined you to be a painter."

"Well surprise surprise…," I drone.

"Much less being willing to paint me," she says.

I actually respond to that: "Why do you find that surprising?"

"Just….well…..I didn't think you'd get along with me!"

"Painting you and giving you a hug are two completely different things….."

"Hehehe. Well, by all means, I'm not going to obligate you to hug me."

"Yeah. Thanks." Her ears. Her frame of face….

"Heaven forbid you so much as touch me. I guess that's where the painting part actually makes sense, huh? You can get to know the world and people around you without getting too intimate."

"Whatever…."

"Seriously! I think a deep part of you is wanting to reach out, Raven!" Terra shifts a bit where she sits—for comfort's sake—and again is perfectly still on the stool. "If you can't do it through word of mouth or hand….then your eyes do it!"

"My eyes…."

"Yeah. For instance…the best way you can be my friend is to paint me!"

"You are my friend, Terra," I matter-of-factly drone. "Illustrating you or not illustrating you is not a confirmation of that."

"Oh, but of course…."

"It is simply a tradition I have started up…," I dip in light…white colors. I brush. I stroke. "I have portraits of the other four Titans. I might as well have one of you."

"Hence…the things that Raven sees…."

"……I beg your pardon?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I mean…it's gotta be interesting. You being an artist. You're so quiet and….reserved at times, Raven. You've gotta have one heck of a perspective."

"Hrmmmmm….," I bite my lip and finish a few strokes. "Not any different from yours."

"……I'd much rather indulge in your perspective than mine, to be honest…"

I ignore that.

"Your mouth is going to be ghostly at this point, you realize that?"

"Hehehe. I can live."

And then I utter rather sub-consciously: "This will be……an interesting portrait…"

"Why's that, Raven?"

"I don't know if you will approve of it when it is done," I say. "It might not be very accurate."

She smiles. "All art is like that, right?"

"I'm just now starting to get to know you, Terra…," I say. "And you are very……….happy."

"Yup," Terra raises an eyebrow. "That a bad thing?"

"I don't know. Depends…."

"Hehehehe………"

"…………….you were far from happy when we first met you."

"And a month and a half later, you fall back in our laps. And you are so…..so different. Unexpectedly on the ball with things. Happy. Calm. Collected."

"I had lots of time to think, Raven. I was a jerk for having run off after the misunderstanding with Beast Boy. I sat back and re-examined my powers….."

"All by yourself?"

"Pfftttchyaa! Of course!"

"It was hard….but….but the one place in the world I want to be is here…with the Titans…I-I don't see where else I can go. Especially now that I can use my powers for good."

"As opposed to…….?"

"……….."

More brush strokes. A soft scrape. Light auras surrounding…billowing….

I inhale.

She exhales: "Do you…..doubt me as a Titan, Raven?"

"That's why I'm painting you, Terra."

"Oh?"

"The portrait speaks for itself."

She smiles gently. "Does it truly?"

I finish a stroke. I put down the brush. I put down the palette. I stand back and fold my arms. "There….it is done." I look over at her and drone: "You tell me…."

"……," she smiles curiously. She gets up from the stool. She pads over the carpet, shuffles around the easel, and looks directly at the painting. And her mouth falls agape. And she stares….the smile fading. Her eyes round….rounder. A softness. A sense of falling…not settling…but plummeting….

"……..," I stare at her.

She says something. More of a choke. A painful smile, she utters: "I….I don't know what to say…."

"It is the first thing that came to me."

"I-I can see that…..," Terra nods. Murmurs. Bites her lip. "I….."

Silence.

She sniffs. A shuddering breath. Her eyes are wet and she only half looks at me with crookedly curved lips as she manages: "I-If you can excuse me….I-I gotta go to the ladies' room. I'll be back."

She leaves the desert-themed room. Rather hurriedly. A wrist rubbing over her leaking eyes.

I gaze at her shadow, then back over to the painting. I shuffle to the easel and hold it up in the light to re-examine my work.

A golden-lit Terra sits on a painted stool. Sprouting from her petite back are two ivory-platinum wings. Angel wings. Shimmering. With sparkles. Heavenly. And above Terra's crown in jagged artistic aestheticism is a halo of flickering yellow and white.

Terra is beautiful. Calm. Serene. A Saraphim.

"Impressionist….," I murmur to the air. "Pure and simple…."

I place the easel down. While waiting for Terra…or waiting for nothing at all…I walk over and put my robe on. There is something soft about the blue material on my shoulders. Like Moses' veil when he came down from a mountain. Or a holy cloak keeping the energies of a prophet at bay so that she might hold onto some gentle sanity…


	8. Glork

﻿

'Beast Boy has breakfast ready' Robin had said. 'It's tofu glork. I kinda think Starfire said she was looking forward to trying some. Could you go wake her up please, Raven? Thanks a lot.'

I groan.

I mutter.

I march through the hallway up to Starfire's door.

"The next time they hold the tea for ransom….," I murmur as I come to a stop. "Their large intestines shall telekinetically learn new dimensions of 'expansion'…."

**Knock Knock Knock.**

"Starfire…," I drone.

Silence.

**Knock Knock Knock.**

"Starfire?"

I run a hand over my face. Sighing.

_Center yourself._

Center yourself……

"Starfire, Beast Boy is serving…..tofu glork….," I whine at the door. "Robin said you'd be interested so………..are you interested?"

I roll my eyes.

I sigh.

I swivel around and walk down the hallway.

"She can sleep all day for what I care. Besides…the less of Beast Boy's tofu she eats, the more years she is likely to live…OOF!"

_TH-THWUMP!_

I trip over something.

Wincing, I push myself up and glance down at my feet. My eyes flicker a glowing black energy….

"And just what are YOU doing here?"

"_Rawawawawawaaar!"_ Silkie ecstatically replies.

I pick the oversized maggot up and hold it at arm's length, grimacing. "Aren't you supposed to….b-be in Starfire's room?"

"_Rawwwar?"_ and Silkie promptly sucks on two of my fingers.

"Nnngh…," I sigh and trod back to the Tamaranian's bedroom. "I know exactly where this is going……"

FL-FLASH! _Schwissh!_

I force the door open with telekinesis.

I wander into the pink room of Starfire, dimly illuminated by a nightlight in the corner. Always a nighlight. I nervously look around for Silkie's respective cocoon. Or dome. Or….

_Just what does he sleep in anyways?_

"Nrghhh…." I glance over.

Starfire sleeps placidly on her circular, violet bed. Her head hangs over the side…hair dangling.

"Starfire…," I whisper and walk over. "I need you to get up…."

"Mmmmm…..," the Tamaranian stirs.

I hold Silkie out in her direction. "Breakfast time and….just where in Azar's name does this thing go?"

"Mmmm….Raven?" the girl sleepily mutters.

"Yes, Star. I…."

SWOOOSH-_THWUMP!_

"Aaah!" I jolt. Encompassed in Starfire's arms.

"Heeeeeeeee!" the alien girl nuzzles me in her sleep. "Pretty doll Raven!"

"Star, wake up!"

WHUMP!

Death by cuddling.

"Shall we engage in the braiding of the hair today? I hear the mall of shopping is….nnngh…..," Starfire stirs.

I grit my teeth and struggle to get loose from her iron like grip. "Star….let go! Better yet, wake up and then let go! DAAH!"

THRUMP!

She spoons me in the bed. Cheek rubbing against my neck. "Mmmm….yes, I so happen to be well employed in the aroma of the finger massage. Shall we travail upon eating chocolates while looking at magazines and discussing the somatic complexion of popular teenage boys?"

"Star! Get off, you extraterrestrial somnambulist! I was just…."

_"Rawawawawaar!"_

"Silke! No! Get off that robe! Azarathian Robes are not for eating….STARFIRE!"

"Hehehehehe….."

……

……

……

Fifteen minutes later.

_Schwisssh!_

Cyborg, Robin, and Beast Boy look up from the breakfast table.

"…….," emerge into the room. Fuming. A slobbering Silkie chewing on my hair. A dazed and grinning Starfire clinging onto my waist in her sleep. A pink bedsheet somehow stuck between us and draping back into the elevator like the quilt from _Like Water for Chocolate._

"………………….," the boys stare.

I take a deep, seething breath. I growl: "The first one of you three to come here and help pry me loose from these biological nutcases will suffer the least painful death…."

"R-Right…," Cyborg jumps up and rushes towards me. Robin a close second.

But Beast Boy sits back in his booth, giggling over his breakfast. "Wow! Starfire and Raven bring a worm to bed! How kinky!"

I flick my wrist at his tofu.

_SPLORCH!_

He quivers, soiled all over. "Awwwwww-**MUFASA**!"


	9. Wake

﻿

I've been having trouble sleeping lately. It feels like some secret weapon from some nefarious villain has been dropped deep into the center of my being and ruptured the very thing I've found enjoyment and solace in lately.

Human beings are entitled to sleep. At least in this world they are. But to what extent does the privilege outweigh the right? I'm no addict, but I do tend to spend an awful amount of time in my room. Who am I to be blamed if a bed was placed there?

In the early days of Beast Boy's apprenticeship with the Titans, he was quite the…erm….sleepyhead. Robin, Cyborg, and I soon stopped counting the hours he spent on the couch in feline mode. At first we thought he simply had a problem. It turned out he was just being Beast Boy. And…by our hands at least…he was doomed to change his ways. That doom evoked a stronger person out of him now. At least when he sleeps nowadays, he no longer sheds emerald follicles all over the place.

Starfire's mannerisms are strange, straight down to her biological habits. In proportion to Terran custom, everything about Starfire is upside down, sideways, and inverted. She prefers pillows for her feet or no pillows at all, to the point that the few of us who have witnessed her slumber wonder if perhaps the whole reason for the bed's existence in her room is to acquaint herself with earthling décor while sticking to Tamaranian ways. Who's to know? There was one or two weeks when she 'hibernated'. It worried the living sanity out of Robin and made Beast Boy laugh. She had terrible insomnia when she came to. She was rather…..cute about it.

Cyborg doesn't technically sleep. Rather, he 'recharges' and takes on all manners of habits indicative of a walking battery pack. Unlike the rest of the Titans, Cyborg is never having to be shouted awake or forced to get out of bed. The flipside is a series of awkward moments when Robin is trying to do research with the Titans Computer and Cyborg is waltzing around between the kitchen and the entertainment system with bundles of wires strapped to his person. The arguments ensuing from such an egotistical crossover are stressing to say the least. It's fortunate to admit that they have frequented less and less with later days.

As for Robin, there is hardly anything to complain about. In essence, he's more capable of overworking than letting sleep get the best of him. Which leads me to wonder as of present if he is more capable of relating to me now than anyone else. And then I must remind myself that Robin's restlessness is a self-actualized obsession. A sort of diligence that wires his brain into the long-reaching hours of darkness so that he can never truly be at rest. It's both admirable and pitiful…but at the same time very much unlike my own 'predicament'.

Which raises an epiphany. A rather stupid reexamination, really. I am…as always…my own foil. And perhaps the reason for my insomnia is simply that I support the illusion of sleep depravity in my head like a thick, infernal sponge. And the cavities are duly soaked with thoughts best reserved for the dark tabula rasas of meditation or the warming touch of daylight. Thoughts that I have achieved that which I most sought to accomplish in my life.

I am surrounded by friends. And yet, I am bleakly and utterly _alone_. It is something similar to Rousseau's vision. People are born free, and yet they are in chains. The things that move them to better themselves is exactly what causes their lapse in happiness or liberation to begin with.

Only, it is so much more heavy for me. I know for a fact that I was not born free. The chains that I bear are tied in with my soul indistinguishably. And the very thing that keeps me from traversing loosely from this dark domain of my self is the fact that the very distant friends that 'surround' me all live and breathe in blatantly mortal shells that I would never…ever…contemplate risking if even for the last pulsing bloodstream of my being.

I am at the brink of something I always anticipated—but honestly never looked forward to. I am on the brink of the noble experiment. Lying alone in this room that echoes my thoughts like whispers to shadow, I accept the fate that I have chosen. A life of solitude and soul-self imprisonment. A girl in a bottle. These restless thoughts, growing and surmounting, must always be mine and mine alone. Balanced and held secure in the center of my solace. Locked away for fear that the sparks they breed for me might ignite something drier and more vulnerable in the hearts and minds of my closest companions. And I'll know for a fact as I witness it first hand with each passing day that distance is something the voice makes moreso than the arms. And as much as Starfire may hug me or Cyborg shove me or Robin salute me or Beast Boy run circles around me, I shall always keep this fear and this restlessness to myself.

In hopes that somewhere in the chaos of this ruptured mind, the friction will make a warm pocket. And in that silent crevice I will cuddle my aching body in and drift away. Sleeping these cold years into oblivion.


	10. Wear

﻿

I am sitting in the corner of the room.

Trying to read a book.

Trying….

"Travail upon coming with me, Robin!" Starfire enthusiastically hovers around the Boy Wonder's computer where he sits. "Is it not a day of refined beauty? The Sun and the crystal blue sky harkens to us!"

"I'm busy, Star! I gotta check up on Slade's whereabouts. The bombs he set a week ago left a mysterious residue that I'm just SURE is a clue to something! If I can only figure out just what….."

"Heeeee. Robin, surely you know that Slade's malevolent forces have been put to rest ever since Cyborg and I came upon that surprise shipment of weapons cache along the Northern Railroad! The ensuing assault ended in glorious victory, to the point that I am certain Slade needs far more than a week to redouble his minions."

"Star? Are you suggesting that I shirk off my duty to this City?"

"Positively not! I endeavor to convince you to engage in this City's aesthetic wonder! Behold, the Terran spring!"

"Egads….Starfire….."

"Alive and radiant with songbirds, the feathery breasts of which elicit a shine not altogether different from the crystalline moon halos of Havvorax Ceti Four!"

"Hahaha….Star, where do you get this stuff…?"

"The bees and their figurative copulation with the birds! Oh, your culture does have such wondrous, romantically poetic allusions with which to assail the beauty of the vernal equinox!"

"'Romantically'? Star, just what are you getting….?"

"Hehehe! Fear not, Robin. I merely wish to spread the spirit of relaxation and you and your stiff Terran workaholicism is sorely in need of such a distraction!"

"This is serious business, Star…."

"Yield forth the bastion doors of your inner being!"

"Oh for heaven's……………….SLADE, Star! SLADE!"

"Tear down the walls of self-deprivation in this time of glorious sunlight! Surrender to the all encompassing rays of warmth akin to solar felines that don so many of the windowsills in this fine City!"

"Oh god….hahaha….okay, Starfire….now you're starting to scare me…."

"Vem'borratta sleken'yu vrmm'yt cladda salkarnostryp p'lieriam X'Hal!"

"Uh oh! Now you're breaking into Tamaranian verse! Line crossed!" Robin smirks and finally gets up, pushing his chair out from beneath the desk. "Okay, Star. You win. You wanna go for a walk? Fine…we'll go for a walk."

She gasps and clutches her hands together. "Glorious! I ensure you, Robin, this day will be most delightful for your long-neglected senses!"

"If it gets you to ease up on the poetry of your folklore….heh…..I-I'll handle any hike," he says with a nervous smile.

Starfire giggles and goes on about something else.

At around this time, Beast Boy walks over and stands besides me with his hands on his hips. "Jeez…," he says sideways to me. "I've never seen Star press into Robin like this before." He gazes at me directly. "You think she's finally coming onto him? I mean…dude…," he whispers. "We all expected it."

I flip a page and drone. "Nnnngh…."

"Something else?" Beast Boy smirks. "You're the girl, Raven. What secrets do you know?"

"…….," I flip a page.

"Hehehe….Raaaaaaven?"

"……." Flip. "Starfire found an extra set of Robin's costume lying around last night."

Beast Boy blinks. "Yeah…and?"

"And nighttime went by…."

"…………….," Beast Boy scratches his head. "Uhm…..okay…..d-do you mean to say that….." Blink blink. "Starfire wore Robin's costume over night and now she's…."

"Yup."

"Okaaaay…..wyrd…..," he gazes awkwardly over at the two Titans. "And what in Allah's name exactly was she doing with Robin's costume?"

I clap the book close. I stand up. "Not half as much as what I did while wearing yours last evening," I drone with a straight face.

"Ohhh….," Beast Boy nods. "I see….AAACK!" He jumps and all but explodes his green eyes in my direction. "R-R-R-Raven?" He blushes furiously. "What are you….?"

"Good afternoon, Beast Boy," I stroll towards the elevator doors with my book in tow. "I'm off to meditate."

"Raven! W-Wait! Come back! T-T-Talk to me!"

I hide a smirk. A helpless one, for once. It isn't until the elevator doors seal themselves safely behind me that even I manage a slight chuckle.

But of course I was leading Beast Boy on….

….

….it was Robin's costume I found last night too.


	11. Talk

﻿

"It sure is a beautiful day, Rae," Cyborg rolls the driver's side window down some and breathes deeply the cold air squeezing through. "Kinda makes you want to get out and run home, much less ride in a car, huh?"

"It's your car," I drone. "I'm not in the mood for a drive around the park. I need to get home."

Cyborg chuckles. "Whatever in the world for, girl? You're _always_ having to get home!"

"So how's life treating you?"

"It is treating me as fate delivers…"

"Wow, aren't you talkative?"

"If you don't mind, Cyborg, I didn't decide to ride in the T-Car with you to chat. I decided to come with you because I do not have a driver's license—much less a car of my own—to drive by my own choosing."

"But you could have flown!"

"Gawd, I don't understand it! If I could fly, I'd be soaring through the skies all day! You wouldn't see me sticking to the ground like a sore prairie dog!"

"Flight isn't all that poetic bleeding hearts make it…," I say.

"Oh? Then what I'm guessing is………"

"I'm tired, Cyborg," I remark. "I don't even think I could fly home safely without falling at least once."

"You don't say….," he glances at me sideways. "Is it really that much of a strain on that pretty head of yours?"

"It can be unbearable at times…," I hiss. "Especially after spending so much of my mental energies in saving a dozen people from a burning building."

"Hey! You did good back there! I'm surprised you're not doing loopty loops in the air for pride!"

"Cuz that's what I'd be doing! Hell, I saved a bunch of kids from the collapsing buildingside just a few minutes ago as well! I'm in the mood for running laps around the Tower! Heh….maybe B.B. and Terra will be in the mood for some flag football later or somethin' cuz I'm restless and HAPPY! WOO!"

"Cat got your tongue…R-Raven?"

"Did you just say I have a pretty head?"

"Uhm……"

I glare at him. "You said 'a strain on that pretty head of yours'."

"Yeah…..and?"

"AND?"

"I want to roll over and die…," I groan.

He chuckles. "God, girl! You never can lighten up for once, can you?"

"If I lighten up, I might lose my grip of the earth and float away…."

"Well, hell! That's for damn sure! Eat a frickin' ham sandwich, girl! Your weight is scaring me!"

"I was being figurative…."

"You mean you were telling a joke!"

"No, I mean that I was……why am I having this conversation with you?"

"Hehehehehe."

I fold my arms, huff, and glare out the window. "Beast Boy and the others should be riding with us to absorb your talkative self. Not me."

"Nuh uh…..Starfire and Robin went to walk around the park."

"Uh huh…."

"……..and Terra and BB went to the All-You-Can-Eat Waffle buffet in downtown."

"You don't say…."

"But I do! Spring is in the air, girl! And you know what THAT means….."

"No, I don't."

"…………………….seriously?"

"Is this some kind of riddle, Cyborg?"

He shrugs while gripping the wheel. "Nah….I guess not."

"Good. Now please…..stop talking to me….."

Cyborg sighs with momentarily fake frown. "Oh well. Guess I'll have to deal with boredom the other way I can."

Silence…..

Cyborg grins wide and jerks hard at the wheel: "TURNPIKE DETOUR!"

_SCREEEEEEEEECH!_

_VRMMMMMMMMM!_

I wince all over and scrunch up against the passenger wheel. My hand flies protectively to the Jesus Bar.

"Cyborg! What are you….?"

"Gonna test out the new nitro, girl! Boo-Ya! I might just fly today yet!"

"What? Are you insane….?"

"I'm bored! WOO HOO! Beautiful day! Turnpike nitro boost here we come!"

"Okay then, talk to me….."

"Hahahahahaha!"

"Talk to me, Cyborg! Talk to me!"

"I'm borrrrrrrred! Hahahaha!"

"TALK TO ME!"

**VRMMMMMMMMMMM!**


	12. Silk

﻿

I had a dream last night.

I dreamt that the end of everything snuck up on me like a big black hole in the bed. I was awoken by something much deeper and more obsidian than sleep. It pulled at the corners of my temples and froze the edges of my brain till all I had was a tunnel vision of oblivion.

And the hole opened up like a giant celestial esophagus and swallowed me. And I clawed and I clawed and I clawed at the silk gossamer slime of the walls but I kept on slipping down into the darkness. I screamed my head off. I shouted and cursed in fury. I smashed my head against the mirror and punched holes in the walls and tore the floor up with my teeth as I slipped and I slipped and I slipped.

No matter what I can do, death is coming to consume me. It is coming to consume all of us. It is the black, opaque wall through which all of us are dragged by ropes of fate. Some of us screaming. Some of us crying. Most of us….like me….sleeping….sleeping….sleeping…..

I was born with a dark talent. I could feel death. I could see into it. My very blood hosts the seeds of the agents of destruction, thanks to the touch of my father. And what do I see in death nowadays that everyone—my fellow Titans, the citizens of this City, even Slade—can't possibly see?

I see nothing. A huge wall of helpless, endless nothing.

The one thing that freezes me over in horror more than the inevitability of my eventual, utter end is the idea that I may very well be the end of those closest to me. And maybe that is my true gift. I was born with the ability to extend my horror to others. Not so much to make the nightmare a reality to them far sooner than they deserve, but I could have ample warning to….

Distance myself……

But…

Deep inside of me, there is that ever weeping hope. A piece of faith I once held onto before the teachings of Azar ironed my head in meditation and the death of my people and mother buried it.

I hope that—if I am with my friends as long as possible—something in the black, endless plummet won't be quite as painful. And I won't be thinking of my self so much when all that inhabits my fleshly shell of a being evaporates into the obsidian….but I will be thinking of those warm bodies I shared my bleak existence on this celestial dot with and maybe there will be a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Of course, I know that such thinking is pointless. There isn't much to a thought when all function in the brain snaps off to refuse the 'network' its transfer.

But….at least….

It is a happy delusion. A happy delusion for now. It will lull me to sleep and maybe even warm my freezing skull in the face of sheer, endless terror.

I would rather be asleep when death carries me away, then alive and screaming.


	13. Chess

﻿

"………….."

"………….."

Robin's glove moves.

He pauses.

He lowers the glove again.

"……………"

His hand moves again. Quicker this time. He picks up his last rook and moves it two spaces over to block my queen from taking out his knight.

I stare from my end of the chess table. We sit at the edge of the Main Room. The brown and black board rests on a small platform between us. The noonday sun softly settles in.

"…………..," I eye my queen. I look at how easy it is to take his rook. And yet, at the same time, moving my queen into the attack could possibly be taking the bait of some silent and deadly strategy on the part of the Boy Wonder. I could remove my queen, but that would give Robin's rook even space to strike at my inner defenses and take out my king. I could, perhaps, surrender the queen to his rook and let my bishop take his piece out while protecting my king. But doing so could put far too many of my tableside's pieces in jeopardy. And there is yet one knight left whom I can sacrifice for the rook as well, assuming of course Robin is so intent on taking out my queen.

Upon this last thought, I realize that a minute and a half has passed. Robin sits squarely before me. Eyemask thin. His chin leaning on two gloved fists. Staring at the board. Staring….

"……………"

I take a deep breath. I move a pawn of mine one space forward on the far side of the chessboard, away from the friction. That leaves my queen helplessly open. And Robin knows it.

_The matriarch is always expendable. The number one rule of life._

"……………..," Robin stares at my chess pieces. There is a slight twisting motion to his eyebrows.

I stare at him. I wonder if he'll say anything. Anything about my move. It would go against everything I think I know about Robin for him to say something.

And indeed he doesn't. He moves his rook in and takes out my queen. Always on the offensive. He stares coolly with his gloves to his chin again.

"………..," I stare at the chessboard now.

With my queen gone, all I have now is a rook and a couple of pawns to keep my king safe. My bishop is on the far side of the playing field. If I coordinate it just right, I may be able to box in Robin's rook, take it out and eliminate one of his pawns as well, and then redouble on the offensive with losing only one pawn of my own and try to take out his king efficiently and….

"Say, Raven?"

My forehead tenses. I keep cool.

I drone in response: "Hmm?"

"Has Starfire told you why she likes me?"

"…………..," I blink. "…………." I look blankly up at him. "Starfire likes you?"

There is ever so slightly a twinge to his neck muscles. Any response in his eye muscles is hidden by his mask.

"I….I'm beginning to think that she does."

"Has she said anything to you about it?"

"To me?"

"Yeah…."

"No, Robin," I drone. I look at the chess game. I think about the chess game. "Why do you ask me?"

"Well, you're the only other girl in this Tower."

"So?"

"………"

"………I-I sorta figured that she would have shared such with you."

"If she did, such sharing would undoubtedly be in my confidence," I say.

"I understand. I don't mean to pry."

"Are you under the assumption that Starfire likes you?" I reach for a pawn.

"Yes. I'm worried about it."

My finger stops halfway. I raise an eyebrow. "Worried?"

He tilts his head up at me slightly. "Starfire is…..very open. She's emotional and sanguine. I wouldn't want to give her the wrong impression."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I wanted to be more sure of whether or not she feels about me more than pure friendship. If I assumed right and I approached her on it, I would have to know how serious she was. If I assumed right and I approached her about it…"

"I think your ego can handle it, Robin…," I drone and move my pawn over to block his rook. Again, exposing….

He looks at me. "I know. But I'm worried more for Starfire. I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings."

"As a friend, right?"

"Yes. And as a team leader."

"I wouldn't want her emotionally hurt…and thus affecting the way she fights alongside the rest of the team."

"Well, then….," I utter monotonously. "Glad I could be of help."

Robin shrugs and reaches for the chess pieces. "I figured you were the best person to ask about such things."

"Hmm?"

"I mean….you are rather neutral when it comes to…."

My brow furrows and I lean my head to the side. "What do you mean, 'neutral'?"

I don't expect him to answer that. And he doesn't. But what I also didn't expect was the the twenty seconds of silence he let ensue as if it could somehow wash over what he just didn't say. And once that twenty seconds are done, he moves his rook again and takes out my pawn.

"……," I look at the growingly few pieces I have left.

_Why do I always do it?_

Why do I always let my pieces die?

In ten seconds of brashness, I grab my bishop from far across the board and take out Robin's bishop.

Robin then takes out my bishop with his knight.

I take out his knight with my knight.

He moves a pawn forward.

I eliminate the pawn with the knight.

And in fifteen ghastly seconds, the mayhem is over.

"………."

Robin leans back, shakes his head, and smirks. "Another stalemate….."

"Yeah….," I brush a loose blue strand out from my forehead and glanced aside with a sigh. "Another stalemate…."


	14. Flame

﻿

"_Shall I have the pleasure of this dance, madame?" Beast Boy reached his hand out to Raven._

The girl smiled. She took his green wrist, curtsied, and glided out with him.

Hand in hand, the two spun their way across the lake of ice. Their sweater-adorned bodies twirled in the softly settling snow. Raven's hair was a blur of blue beauty. Beast Boy's handsome visage stared lovingly down into her eyes. They pressed chest to chest…heart to heart…and danced their passionate embrace across the ice on swishing skates.

On the far side of the lake, Robin and Starfire waved. They sat happily entwined on a park bench. Starfire said something. Robin giggled. And on a snowy path up the hill, Cyborg walked hand and hand with Jinx. The two stopped under a mistletoe and kissed before Cyborg handsomely fed Jinx strawberries bite by bite, which she girlishly devoured and giggled from the sweet sensation.

"Oh Beast Boy…," Raven cooed. "Life is so full of love and happiness all around us! Ever since I spontaneously woke up one morning and realized that I could control my emotions without any worry or fret about my universe-dominating, demon father Trigon…I realized that the only person in my life was you. I love you, Beast Boy. Your jackass personality and comedic foolishness in the face of everything I and the rest of the Titans stand for makes me swoon like a bride desperate for a knight to sweep her off her feet!"

"And I love you too, Raven," Beast Boy throated. "The days you never-ceasingly gave me the cold shoulder and treated me like a bitchy ice princess with no regard whatsoever to either my humor, love of life, or sex appeal has made me realize that you're the only girl I would ever, EVER want to copulate with."

"Oh Beast Boy….."

"Oh Raven…."

And as they performed their ice dance, their faces drifted close together…

_Lips pursing._

_**CRKKKKKKK!**_

A huge crack flew through the ice. The white shards split and Beast Boy and Raven were thrown back.

"Yaaah!"

"Eeek!"

Beast Boy caught Raven's petite body in his manly arms. She shivered and clung to him. Teeth gritting, the emerald changeling looked up towards a tall, snowy hill. Raven gasped. Beast Boy snarled: "Terra…."

"RAAAAUGH!" Terra stood atop the snowy peak. She flexed her arms and glared down at the ice-skating couple with heated eyes of bitchy gold. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt your FILTHY LOVEMAKING?"

"Terra! Why don't you leave us alone?" Raven sobbed helplessly.

"I will NOT LET YOU TAKE BEAST BOY!" Terra pointed with bandaged forearms. "I slitted my wrists over you, I slitted my wrists over him, and I'll slit my wrists over your children if I have to! All I wanted was his penis and maybe his prostrate gland! Was that too much to ask for!"

Beast Boy hugged Raven close to his chest and shouted up at the evil, ugly blonde. "Terra! It was you who arranged my death! It was you who had me gang-raped by Slade's robots between Betrayal and Aftershock Part 1! It was you who bound and gagged me and dragged me into some lonely closet for castration via a half-sharpen pencil! After all I've bled and suffered and loathed from you, the least you can do is ruin my and Raven's future!" He lovingly stroked his chin against Raven's cheek. "Raven was the one who bandaged my wounds, licked the tears off my face, and had happy make-up sex with me alone in some wooden cabin surrounded by orange blossoms! She cares about me like no other pale-skinned, gothic stereotype with telekinetic powers has or ever could! Which is the least I can say about you, you bitchy son of a bitchy bitch bitch!"

"You're a meanie!" Raven squealed.

"I'll show you!" Terra whipped out a kitchen knife and dove off the snowy mountain. "GO TO (the) HELLLLLLL!"

"EEEEEEEK!" Raven squealed in Beast Boy's chest.

Beast Boy softly put Raven down before pulling out his own switchblade and diving at Terra. "YAAAAUGH!"

As the two knife-fought, Starfire and Robin on the sidelines shook and shivered.

"Friend Robin, we must intercede on our friends' behalf!"

SWOOOSH! THWACK! A shadow moved in and shoved Robin out onto the ice before kicking Starfire into the snow.

Robin shook out of it and stood up. He gasped. "Slade!"

Slade pulled out a bo-staff and glared at Robin. "I'm here to molest you, Robin. Like I've always WANTED!" And he dove at the boy. "RAAAUGH!"

Cyborg gasped, tossed Jinx aside, and charged down the hill.

SWOOOSH! THWACK!

"UGH!" Cyborg tumbled to the side.

Brother Blood landed. His eyes and wrists glowed bright red. "Cyborg….your private circuitry is MINE!" And the burning lecher leaped upon the Robot.

Starfire got up. Gasping. "This is (the) horrible!"

SWOOOOSH! THWACK!

Blackfire put her into an elbow lock from behind.

"INCEST IS THE BEST! RAAUGH!"

"_Nnngh!" THWOMP!_

_  
And soon every Titan but Raven was fighting their worst sexual predator. Jinx saw it all, gasped, and slitted her wrists._

In the meantime, during the climactic knife-battle scene between Beast Boy and Terra, Raven watched helplessly from the icy floor when Beast Boy got the best of Terra and slashed her across the wrists.

"OW!" Terra fell on her knees. "Third time this month!"

Beast Boy planted the knife to her throat. "Tell me why I shouldn't rip out your bitchy throat, bitch!"

Terra snarled, her eyes glowing gold. "I….am…..**PREGNANT!"**

Starfire gasped: **"Beast Boy!"**

"Slade!"

"Cyborg…."

"Robin!"

"Brother Blood!"

"Jinx!"

"……."

Raven exploded. **POW!**

Beast Boy screamed: "RAVEN! I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU!"

And he dropped his knife.

And Terra pounced on him and sank her teeth into his neck.

"RRRRRRGHHHH!"

And then the lake melted, drowning them all in pure…frozen ice.

_**SPLOOOOSH!**_

* * *

"…….."

I shoot up in bed.

Grasping the covers to my petite chest.

Breathing heavily….heavily….heavily….

"……."

Softer……..

Silence.

I gaze at the shadows of my room. The comfort of reality. The juicy sweet loneliness of it all.

"Nnngh….," I run a hand through my hair and exhale a long, winded sigh. "Been a long time since I actually had a _nightmare_….."

Silence.

"………nnngh….," I reluctantly kick the covers off me. The hourglass rotates, suggesting three o'clock in the morning. "I need to read something to put my mind at ease after that…."

So I softly pad over to the bookshelf in my nightgown.

I grab some H.P. Lovecraft.

I sit in a big, velvety chair…light a candle….and submerge….

Reading.


	15. Pet

﻿

"Oooh! Oooh! Raven, before venturing upon the mall of shopping we must take one glorious detour!"

"Starfire…..," I groan and dig my hands into the pouch of my blue sweat jacket. Clad in jeans and a t-shirt underneath, I follow the sweater-and-skirt adorned Tamaranian down the sidewalk this fine evening as she happily skips her way to a conspicuous store front. "You said you were okay with going to the mall. Not this place…."

"It will be but a moment…," Starfire turns and winks at me. She opens a door to a shop marked: 'Pets Plus'. "Please, do follow. There are friends of mine I am most ecstatic to show you!"

"Friends….Starfire?" I raise an eyebrow. I hesitantly trod after her. "Don't tell me you're fraternizing with the goldfish again…."

"Hehehehehe…come seeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

We enter the pet shop with a ringing bell noise from above the door. Instantly puppies bark, parrots squawk, and various winged, furred things dance around a series of metal and plastic cages.

An elderly woman from behind the sales counter looks up from a crossword puzzle, adjusts her glasses, and smiles at the sight of Starfire. "My my, back again are we?"

"Greetings benevolent pet owner!" Starfire clasps her pink-sweatered wrists together and smiles happily. "And how do the Terran animals fair today?"

"They seem quite cheerful! Especially when you show up, Miss Starfire. I still think taking one of them home with you would make 'em even more cheerful, but…."

"Alas….," Starfire hangs her head and looks like she's giving a eulogy. "….it is the rules of Titan's Tower not to have animal companions on the premises…."

"Besides Beast Boy," I mutter. I'm eyeing a hairy black tarantula inside a tank of glass.

"Oh! My heavens!" the owner looks over at me. "Another one!"

"Yeah……"

"Are you also from the Tower?"

"Feh….unfortunately…."

She blinks her elderly eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"Please do not fret over the somber face of my supernatural companion," Starfire looks up and regains her brilliant smile as she walks sideways towards me. "We have most recently overcome a stressing situation involving the Puppet King." The Tamaranian hugs me from the side, her happy cheek against my shoulder. "Heee! We know so much about each other now!"

I clench my teeth. "You are hugging me again…."

"The litter is still here…," the owner says.

Starfire gasps and all but drops me. "Oh, the fuzzies?"

"Heheh….yes, Miss Starfire. The _fuzzies_."

"M'kratta synh de X'Hal!" Starfire clasps her hands and drifts across the pet store. "Please allow my friend and I to visit them! I have missed them so!"

"All right…," the woman smirked and waddled over across the store to a metal cage on the far end of the pet shop.

Starfire tugs me along with a strong hand to my wrist. "Please, Raven! You must see the fuzzies!"

I groan, violet eyes rolling. "Star….can't we just go to the mall and get this evening over with?"

"This is well worth the time, Raven…."

"Here we are!" the owner opens the cage and switches into cutesy mode. "Guess who came to visit! Yes yes yes! Guess who came to visit! Yes yes!"

"Nnnngh….," I mutter under my breath. "….I think I'm going to be sick…."

"Ohhh….you are the same cute size as when I first held you!" Starfire lifts from the cage and cradles a tiny, orange kitten. The infantile feline blinks its beady eyes up at Starfire and sniffs at the open air. "Hehehehehe….," Starfire smiles and lightly taps its tiny nose with a finger. "Hello there, my little bumgorfffff!"

I can't help but smile ever so slightly. My eyes thin. "_This_…is a 'fuzzy', Starfire?"

"Raven," Starfire rocks the joyous little kitten in her arms. "Have I ever told you how heavenly blessed Terrans are to be populated with such wondrous furry entities as these adorable 'mammals'? There is something far more pleasing in being able to soothe an animal of fur without the thought of tentacles reaching for your grebnacks."

"Uh…..I think I can only sympathize, Star….," I gaze over at the owner.

She smiles at me. "The litter was born two weeks ago. Your redheaded friend here insists on paying them a visit each time she's in the area. I must ask…are all Titans so appreciative of little things?"

"Only the alien ones…."

"Here, Raven!"

"……," I gaze over at Starfire.

She smiles proudly at me and offers the kitten. "Do you wish to cuddle the fuzzy?"

I bite my lip. "Erhm….Star….," I glance at my black sweatjacket and then at the orange hairs of the youthful feline. "I am not exactly a….c-cat person…."

"Hehehehe….here…."

"St-Star! I…"

"Be gentle."

I flinch, but sooner than naught I am cradling the kitten deposited into my arms. I remain still "………" and slowly gaze down.

The petite orange thing flicks its tail about and moves its head around like a tiny tiger. It tilts is nose up and stares at me for a few blinking second before letting out little mew sounds. Whiskers spreading and relaxing. Tale flicking.

"…………….," I take a deep breath and manage a single left handed pet over its soft, furry head. "Well….it certainly is….small…."

"Sooooo cuuuuuuute," Starfire coos.

I glare at her. I look bat at the kitten again. Such a tiny thing. Warm and fragile. Young.

"There there….," the shop owner reaches over for the kitten and I hand it to her. "I think he's missing his brothers and sisters."

"Yeah….," brush a few orange hairs off my sweatjacket. "I think it's had enough of the giants manhandling it…."

"It deserves to be with its family as long as it can manage….," Starfire says. "……" She looks over at me. Silence. She leans her redhead to the side. "Raven?"

"Raven?"

"Hmmm?" I look up from the cage and towards her. Deadpan.

Starfire smiles. "If Robin did not have his household stipulation, would you actually consider adopting one of these pretty lives with me?"

"………..," I gaze down at the cage again. I sigh. "I dunno, Starfire. I don't _do_ pets."

"Oh? Truly? Why is that, Raven?"

I shrug. I run a hand through my blue bangs. "I…I'm not particularly fond of surrounding myself with things that I know are going to live out their lives and die before I do."

An exhale. I turn and look at Starfire. "Are we done here…..?" I pause.

Starfire is hugging me. And it's not one of her giggling, sanguine hugs of annoyance. But rather….soft. Inviting. Warming.

After a few breathless seconds, she parts the hug and stares at me with a kindly face. I a gentle voice she utters: "Are we not all temporary things, Raven?"

"I am….enraptured to 'surround myself' with you….." And her eyes positively sparkle.

"………….," take a deep breath. I brush the incessant strand of blue out from over my brow and gaze aside. My throat is sore….

Starfire's hand gently rests on my hand. "Shall we enjoy this evening together? At the mall of shopping?"

I swallow. I gaze up at Starfire with a soft attempt to smile. My voice shakes a little: "Y-Yes, Starfire. I would….like that…."

She smiles. "Let us make haste before the first sales end!"

"Heh….allright…."

She dashes out of the store, tugging my petite self along. The shop owner waves at us as we leave. The cages and animal faces blur by in furred, dark streaks. The bell above the door tolls the second we leave. A happy cry. Like kitten voices on the other end of a tunnel.


	16. Boy

﻿

**_KABOOOOOOM!_**

I flinch.

Flaming sprays of debris surge overhead.

I shade my eyes for half a second as the night is pierced by an amber explosion.

Once vision readjusts, I nervously glance up.

I gasp.

Beyond the rows of Slade's marching robots, a building has collapsed from a stray explosive.

Starfire shouts something and points at the blaze.

Robin slams two robot necks apart with his bo-staff before landing in a stand-still, panting, and giving forth a command: "Titans! The building! There may be people inside!"

"Raaaugh!" Cyborg tosses two wrestling androids off of him, prepares a sonic cannon, and aims at a long row of menacing thugs.

_**ZAAAAAAAAAP!**_

Robot bodies and limbs shatter every which way.

A path is opened for Beast Boy to charge through. He morphs into a rhino and stampedes down the gauntlet. He bats his horned snout left and right, smacking fiends to the wayside. Starfire flies overhead, giving cover with blazing starbolts as the two Titans rush towards the burning site.

"Raven!" Robin shouts towards me, snapping me to attention. "Give them cover!" And he promptly dashes back out into the street alongside Cyborg, engaging the last regiments of Slade's mechanical army.

I take a deep breath, chant my magic words, and levitate myself swiftly over the mayhem to the crushed building front. Right as I reach there, a flank of Slade's robots storm up and attempt to pelt Starfire and Beast Boy with lasers. I block their onslaught with a wave of black energy while simultaneously engulfing a nearby pickup truck in telekinesis and tossing it at a hapless group of robots.

Metal joints crush and collapse.

Panting, I glance behind me.

Starfire blasts open a hole in a window.

Beast Boy takes on the form of a velociraptor and bravely dives into the smoking interior. Starfire glows a hot emerald and soars after him.

I'm left on the outside, guarding the impromptu 'entrance' with a shielding half-dome of black energy.

Sweating……

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Beast Boy and Starfire emerge with two large clusters of people. They cough and sputter, regaining the oxygen lost from their smoke-assaulted lungs. A few of them cling to second and third degree burns, moaning.

I try to heal the most of them I can, while at the same time continuing to give Starfire and Beast Boy cover as they make more and more trips into the fragile interior of the building.

In the meantime, Robin and Cyborg are sending the last of Slade's urban army on the run. Sonic cannonfire and explosive birdarangs surge after the heels of the android henchmen, blistering the urban cityscape with sparking computer chips and inner workings.

"Raven!" Beast Boy pants, running up to me in elf form. "There's one more kid trapped inside the building!"

Starfire hovers above us. "We cannot locate him! The smoke is too intense!"

"The building may collapse at anytime!" Beast Boy adds with a further breath. "If we all go in together, we might have better luck finding him!"

"Hold on….," I utter. I gaze over at Cyborg and Robin.

The last of Slade's henchmen are either retreating or being annihilated. The city—in essence—has been cleared. Already the warbling sounds of police sirens and ambulances echo from the city blocks beyond. Closer and closer and closer.

"Okay!" I shout and motion the other two Titans into the building. "Let's move! Split up!"

"Right away!" Starfire soars in through the smoking mouth of the partially collapsed building.

Beast Boy dives in next.

I give the coughing, stirring citizens a last glance before levitating in myself.

* * *

The building is a smog-laden labyrinth of billowing smoke and splashing embers.

I float over crooked floors and stairs.

The woodwork is missing in a lot of places, producing mad drops that I avoid by floating over swiftly.

I shield my mouth with telekinesis, but even still I cannot help but cough as I cry out: "_Hello? Is anyone here? We are the Titans! We've come to rescue you from this burning building! If you can hear me, call back out to me! Knock on the walls or floor! Do anything!"_

I crane my ear.

Nothing but maddening chaos.

Burning smoke.

Crackling embers.

A spark or two catches my blue robe, setting it ablaze.

I gasp and toss the article off of me…hood and all.

I hover about now in my black leotard. Panting. I part the smoke with my soul-self as I fly forward.

"_Hello? Can anyone here me? We've come to rescue you!"_

Then…

A knocking sound.

Through the walls.

I spin around.

I spy a doorway to a room, glowing amber.

I rush towards it.

I kick the door open.

**FWOOOMB!**

A tongue of flame billows out at me.

I block the heat away with telekinesis.

I slowly levitate forward through the fire. Sweating. Parting the blaze with my soul-self.

I look around.

I spot a corner between the bed and the closet.

A teenage boy is huddled against the wall.

He looks almost my age.

A little younger.

I land on my feet and rush over to him.

Kneeling.

"It's okay! The Titans are here to….rescue…………..y-you……."

My voice falters.

I blink.

His chest is so badly burnt that his insides are nearly hanging out. It is far beyond any of my healing abilities. His lip quivers and trickles out blood as he gazes up at me with soft, smoke-haloed eyes. A sick face. Helpless…pleading….

"…………," I stare.

'_Snkkkkt! Raven! Raven, come in!'_

I nearly jump. I whip out my communicator and anxiously talk back: "I'm here, Robin! I…."

_'Where are you? Starfire and Beast Boy are already out of that building! You need to get out of there too!'_

I feel the boy's neck for his pulse. It's weak.

"I've got a survivor! He's hurt pretty bad! We're holed up by flames on the fifth floor! I don't think I can carry him out alone in his condition!"

_'Hang tight, Raven! Cyborg and Starfire will be coming in to help get you two out! In the meantime, keep that boy safe! And standby!'_

"Understood!"

The teenager coughs. Sputters.

I steady his shoulders. "Stay with me. Stay awake, you hear?"

"Nnnngh…."

I speak loudly above the burning bedroom crackle…

"The Titans are going to get you out! But I need you to stay with me!"

He quivers. He almost falls over.

I reach over and softly cradle his upper torso on my lap. I cover the two of us with black energy, shielding us from the heat, flame, and collapsing ceiling. I cover his burnt chest too with a cool layer of my soul self. Protecting his insides.

He shudders.

He leans back into me and gasps: "R-Raven…..Titans…."

"……….," I breathlessly gaze down at him.

He wheezes. He sputters. He groans: "I….I-I always told my buddies that….if I-I was to bite it from any of the bad guys in this City….I'd die happy as long as I-I got a chance to meet one of you superchicks…."

"………," I inhale sharply. I frown and utter commandingly: "Save your voice. The Titans will be here to back me up and soon we'll get you in the hands of paramedics and you'll be…"

"Y-You're so pretty….Raven….," he reaches a hand up towards me.

I almost flinch, but I choose to remain still. The dying teen's fingers trail my pale chin. They linger…and lower…. "I've always….w-wanted to meet you…..Raven…."

"………………."

He wants to say something else, but he takes his time.

As we wait….

* * *

Minutes later, firefighters are putting out the blaze.

A ring of paramedics have formed in the street beyond the pile of wrecked android parts.

Surviving citizens are being treated for third degree burns via triage and taken back to the hospital in ambulances for immediate care.

The first one being driven away is the teenage boy. I gaze from the sidelines as they truck him into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher. His eyes are closed. Soft. The doors to the ambulance's rear closes and the vehicle throttles off.

"……….," I take a deep breath. Hugging myself. My leotard slightly singed in places. My blue hair tossed.

Cyborg limps over, a few metal scars dealt to his left prosthetic leg. He smiles and pats me on the shoulder. "Good job, Raven…."

"……," I blink deadpan at him. "Huh?"

"You gave it the 'ol college try," he smiles. "Above and beyond the call of duty, ya know? Even Robin wouldn't have the guts to hang out in a burning bedroom like that for so long, I bet!"

"………….."

"Say….," he scratches his metal chin. "That kid you saved. I saw his lips moving as we carried him out into the open. Did he say anything to you, Rae?" He smirks and raises his human eyebrows. "Ya know…a little flirting around the fire?"

I quickly drone an answer: "No, Cyborg. He didn't say anything."

"Hehehe….not a thing?"

"I kinda doubt it……he was dead by the time you and Starfire got there."

"……………," Cyborg's lips part.

Before he can so much as breathe something, I brush myself off and turn to levitate my way towards the Tower. "If you'll excuse me….I am covered in soot…."

* * *

I go home.

I shower.

I brush my hair out.

I slip into a nightgown…

And head into bed.

But try as I might to sleep, I can't.

I'm too busy throwing up all night.


	17. Ship

﻿

"Henceforth….," Beast Boy smirks and leans back in his seat of the T-Ship. "…I conclude in saying that as soon as I get a Moped, it'll be named the B-Wheel."

'_Snkkkt! The B-Wheel?'_

"Hehehehe!" Starfire giggles.

'_Beast Boy…..for the last time. You don't need an automobile! You can fly!'_

"Yuh huh I do need one, Robin! Don't you get it? A changeling's gotta drive in style! In class!"

"You're doing a fine job acting as copilot right now…," I drone sarcastically.

"Huh?" Beast Boy blinks. He looks up. He freaks out and grabs at his controls.

_YANK!_

SWOOOOOSH!

The T-Ship arcs up at the last second to avoid the leaping body of a surfacing sperm whale.

SPLASH!

"YEEEEK!" Starfire rocks about in the rear compartment.

Beast Boy grits his teeth and lowers us hard back into the currents.

SPLOOOSH!

"Whew….," he exhales.

I fold my arms in my own pilot 'bubble'. "I rest my case…."

'_Snnkkt! Don't be messing with my T-Ship, little man! I almost lost the T-Car! I'm not going through anymore trouble today!'_

The Titans are heading home. It is a swift and speedy flight of both the T-Car I hover mode and the flying T-Ship from Titans East to Titans West headquarters. After a nasty climax with Brother Blood, we attempt in whatever way we can to relax. Right now, we're coasting over the waters of a great Bay before we skim over landfall. Robin and Cyborg are in the T-Car. Starfire, Beast Boy, and I are in the T-Ship.

"Did we harm that huge, aquatic mammal?"

"No, Starfire," I drone. "The only thing hurt was Beast Boy's ego…."

"Not true! And don't try to change the subject! Darn it, I need a moped!"

_'Listen, B.B. I didn't get these vehicles by being demanding. I worked on them and built them from the scrap up! I put my heart and soul and POCKET MONEY into these things! If you wanna have a moped so bad, why don't you make one?'_

"Dude! I'm not that mechanically gifted! I'd rather be a…erm…zoologist! You ever need a llama? Now THAT I can build from the ground up! All the way from the DNA to the spitting lips! HA!"

_'Beast Boy…..do you purposefully mean to be so….so….'_

I fill in for Robin: "Pathetic?"

"Hey! Just because I speak my mind…."

"Beast Boy….," Starfire smiles and gestures. "What manner of joyousness is this mo of the ped?"

"Only the coolest most awesome form of transport in the world, Star!"

"Is it good for park rides?"

"Are you kidding? It's GREAT for swings around the park! Heck…I could even install a picnic basket carrier on the back of it and stuff it full of chocolates to woo the ladies and…."

"Heee! Glorious! If you and I were to invest in it together, we could share in the wonderment!"

"Hoo boy….," I drone and stare out the window at the water speeding beneath us.

"It depends. How much have you got pooled together, Starfire?"

"Beast Boy, if you were to drain me you would approximately accumulate two quarts of Tamaranian juices…"

"No, Starfire. I mean money."

"Ohhhh! Well, I certainly am quite balanced in that department. I am proud to announce the savings of twelve!"

"Twelve what? Twelve hundred?"

"Twelve dimes! Hehehe! Fear and respect the awesome power of ten!"

"D-Did I say something amiss, Beast Boy?"

'_Star…….eheheh……why do you want a moped along with Beast Boy so badly?'_

"He has made a valid point. A moped would be most fitting for tips to the park…."

'_But Star! I've got the R-Cycle for that, if you'd like!'_

"Shhh! Shhh!" Beast Boy hissed into the mike. "Don't ruin her hope, Robin! For Zeus' sake! Shut your beak!"

My lips curve ever so slightly.

Starfire blinks. "Robin? Do you mean to insist that you would desire to escort me on your bike through the park?"

_'Oh….erm…….I….uh……'_

She cups her hands to her face. "Because that would be glorious!"

_'I…..I-I was speaking in general, Star….'_

'_Snnnkt! Hey guyyyys! He's blusssssshiiing!'_

"Ha ha ha!" Beast Boy bobs. "Right on, Cy!"

'_Huh? No way! Cyborg, stop fooling around!'_

'_Red as a freakin' beet! I swear!'_

'_I am not! I just…..rghhh!'_

"Hehehehe…," Starfire raises a finger. "I do believe I have initiated the fluster!"

"I gotta admit," I fold my arms. "It is getting rather easier and easier these days."

'_What's that supposed to mean, Raven?'_

'_I see what she means! Care for some hot dogs, Robin? I bet I could roast them from your cheeks alone!'_

'_Cyborg! Knock it off! I'll warn you! I know how to override the ejector seats of all these vehicles!'_

"Eeep!"

"Dude!"

'_You joke…….'_

'_Wanna bet?'_

I sigh and gaze out towards the blurring landscape.

"We're waiting, Robin….," I tap an arm-rest. "Any time now….."


	18. Jinx

﻿

"HAAA!" Jinx launches a pink stream of hex at me.

I cross my arms and block with a shield of black telekinesis. FL-FLASH! I part my arms. My violet eyes widen.

Jinx is charging at me. She cartwheels, leaps, and flings her platform shoe straight at my skull.

"Nnngh!" I grit my teeth and pump a hand up, wrist flicking. A black energy 'talon' rises and grabs Jinx's ankle. Gripping the girl's limb, the talon jerks and tosses her across the space of a construction site.

Jinx twirls in the air and lands in a slide with her purple and black stockinged feet nimbly spread.

I take a deep breath and face her in a meditative pose. The sounds of the other Titans battling Gizmo and Mammoth on the other end of the construction site lightly echo in my ears. The night is cold. The stars twinkle. And the edges of the dusty, post-industrial detritus light up in a pink aura as Jinx charges another pulse of hex and flings it at me. "HAAAA!"

"Azarath….Metrion…._ZINTHOS!"_ I produce a bubble of black energy and explode it outward from my center upon contact with the hex.

The energy fields converge in the center and form a huge crater in the dusty earth.

_CRUNNNCHHH!_

Shockwaves surge through the floor. The steel support structures of a half-constructed building looming beside us wobble and shake. Steel girders crack and start to tip over.

Jinx gasps and looks up.

I swivel about, teeth gritting.

_GROAAAANNNNNN!_

A huge tower of steel mesh teeters over and collapses over us.

"Aack!" Jinx dives.

I take a huge breath and summon energy to teleport….

**_CLANGGGGG!_**

Too late….

The steel girders fall on top of us.

Thunder and dust.

I'm coughing before I realize that I'm lying prostrate with a steel girder trapping my body to the earth. No broken limbs, thank Azar. Just stuck…..

And from the proximity of a faint scent of strawberries….

"Nnngh….Nnnnghhh!" Jinx struggles a few feet before me. She too is trapped under the giant pick-up sticks of steel.

"Well….," I drone. "This is fun…."

"Oh, just shut it, you ice princess!" Jinx hisses.

I frown at her. "You're the ones trying to sabotage construction projects all throughout the City! So don't start complaining if the collateral damage of your efforts serves only to bite you back in the rear end!"

"Oh, yeah, thanks. Like I _really_ needed a lecture in law school…," she rolls her pink cat eyes. "The soonest I'm out of here, you are SO going to suffer an 'unlucky' concussion!"

I don't have to look in a mirror to know that my eyes are glowing a hot gray. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you ever do."

"Ooooh! I'm so scared, Missy Frankestein!"

Silence.

"…..," I frown at her. "Are you trying to infer that I'm the monster or the scientist?"

"Excuse me?"

"Victor Frankenstein is the _Creator_ of the monster, not the monster itself. So if you're trying to insult me…"

"I know who Frankenstein is! And of course it's an insult! By calling you Frankenstein, I made an analogy to Victor's Close Minded, Obsessive Selfishness!"

"It was not so much close-mindedness as it was obsession that forced him to toil and make the creature out of dead human matter! The close-mindedness is simply what forced him to lose his wife on his honeymoon!"

"Yes, but one cannot argue that Mary Shelley's sketch of Frankenstein could very well be an anecdotal statement of misogynist patriarchy attempting to manipulate the powers of maternal fertility for its own selfish uses. The creature was not so much evil as it was needing of the care that Victor Frankenstein neglected to give him because he was turned off by the hideous progeny!"

"True, but if you've familiarized yourself with the life of Mary Shelley, you'll realize that her novel is simultaneously a metaphorical sketch of the horrors of post-partum depression. After all, Mary had already suffered two or three miscarriages by the time she wrote the horror story. And at the same time, she was dealing with Percy Shelley's and Lord Byron's promiscuous, dishonest affairs with various women while the whole troupe of artists and writers were on the go in central Europe. Then when you add the nature of Mary's mother—Wollstonecraft's death, combined with the suicide of Mary's sister upon discovering that she was given birth to out of wedlock, you have the grounds of an allegory made to represent the anxiety of a young mother coming to terms with her feminine past and potential failure as a mother."

"Wow, I never heard it explicated so analytically before. Are you a contemporary of Shelley?"

"I've written two theses on Shelley, as well as an extensive overview of her mother Wollstonecraft. I think there are far more feminine suffrage arguments to be extracted out of _Vindication of the Rights of Women_ and used towards support of the Women's Movement than Wollstonecraft is given credit for."

"Not to mention the poetry of Sor Juana de la Cruz, who may very well be the first feminist writer ever…."

"True….True…."

"…….."

"………"

Jinx blinks.

I blink.

Jinx frowns.

I frown.

We both tense our bodies at the same time.

"HAAA!"

"Nnngh!"

FLASH!

FL-FLASH!

The steel girders fly off of us.

CL-CLANG!

Sprung back on our feet, we shake the dust off and charge at each other with pink and black energy streaming.

"HAAAA!"

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"

**_FLASH!_**


	19. Strand

﻿

I shuffle through the dark halls of the Tower. I am still hot, and to a degree I am still sweaty.

I had been meditating calmly out in the open Sun of the Titan Island when Starfire and Terra ran out—bathing suit clad—to launch themselves splashingly into the warm waters of the Bay. During the two brief minutes it took for them to giggle and splash and tease for me to join them, I had already mentally placed their names in my will and prepared to retire up in the Tower.

Now I'm heading towards my room. Heading towards a shower. Heading towards a good submersion into the Chronicles of Rorek. And heading towards an eventual death…

But as I truck along, I pass by the open doorway to Cyborg's laboratory. There are excited voices inside, announcing to me the presence of the said robot and his changeling companion. A video game of some sort is at hand, as well as a verbal exchange that giddily proceeds momentarily as follows:

_"……I'm telling you, little man, she's a total knockout! And try not to say that she isn't!"_

"I know….I know…."

"I mean, on top of that…we all know her personally and get to see how sweet and smart and friendly she is. And since when do you get all of that combined with beauty?"

"Hehehehe…..I know what you mean. Robin's lucky."

"……Robin?"

"Er…..m-must be my imagination, I guess….."

"…….," I come to a stop. I linger at the door. Why? I am not entirely sure. Admittedly, a morbid curiosity takes hold of me and forces me to lend an ear….

_"If we weren't already friends……and if she weren't still getting used to this planet…..hell, I might even have tried to ask her out and stuff! I mean…damn!"_

"Come to think of it, has she EVER worn anything but a two-piece?"

"Heheheheh. No. I'm telling you, man. Just too perfect!"

"Yeah, well, perfection is in the eye of the beholder."

"What's that, B.B.?"

"I-I mean to say…"

"I know. Terra's pretty cute too."

"**Pretty cute?** Pfft! You're so shallow, Cy….."

"Hahahaha…or maybe you're just…."

"She's an absolute angel! Dude…have you even touched her hair?"

"Uhhh…….B.B.?"

"Er…..n-n-not to say that we've ever done anything nasty….."

"Riiiight…."

"But seriously. Her hair's like….pure….g-golden…..silk. Egads…she's so prettiful."

"Watch it, B.B. Not good to daydream when driving a Warthog."

"I can manage."

"Did you see the two of them just now?"

"Huh?"

"They just passed by a few minutes ago, remember? Down to the beach outside the Tower they went…."

"……," I raise two hands.

I gently grasp the edges of my hood and lower it.

Exposing my blue head of hair.

Still a little sweat-mopped from the exterior meditation.

I lean my head to the side.

Slightly craned to the laboratory.

I blink my violet eyes.

Listening…..

"_What about them?"_

_  
"They were wearin' bathing suits. Erm….NICE ones. Egads, if only I had my snapshot program working in my neural matrix today."_

"Eh….I didn't notice."

"Liar!"

"What! I'm serious! So what if they were goin' down for a little fun in the sun? Girls are entitled to that! Even…erm….s-sexy girls…."

"Bikinis, Beast Boy. BIKINIS."

"Dude! Bite your tongue! Terra was wearing a one-piece!"

"Hahahahahahaha!"

"…..oops."

:"So you DID look!"

"Er…..I-I…."

"Heheheheheheh…."

"I-I guess I….erhm….p-peaked a little…."

"You're a regular pervert, Beast Boy."

"Am not!"

"I'm tellin' on your girlfriend!"

"Dude! Just….l-leave me alone! Look! You're already making me miss some Covenant!"

"Hahahahaha…."

"Damn Elite's gonna fry your ass, I swear to God…ya refrigerator…."

"Raven's out there. I wonder if she'll join them."

"Raven? Nah."

"Why not?"

"Not her thing."

"Well, I suppose you're right. She'd rather be meditating or drinking tea or reading or…"

"No…I mean…..heh….it's not HER THING, Cyborg."

"……..huh?"

_  
"Raven just….just…….."_

"……..yeah?"

"She wouldn't do a bikini."

"So?"

"Or a bathing suit of any kind….."

"SO?"

"It just doesn't….work with her…."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say….say….yeesh………she's just….too dark."

"Too dark for what?"

"For anything, as far as I'm concerned."

"Ah, well to each his own."

"Why? What does your raging libido tell you, Cyborg?"

"Pfft. I don't have a libido, Beast Boy. I can just appreciate beauty."

"Ha! I find that hard to………..on second thought, I'm not even gonna touch that."

"Raven's sexy."

"Prove it."

"In her own unique way."

"I'm still waiting for you to…."

"B.B…..you ever noticed how….like….wh-when Raven is talking or she's reading a book or just being her normal self….."

"Her normal boring, cold, bitter self…."

"Shut up! I'm trying to make a point here!"

"Hehehe…."

"Anyways, you ever notice how……..how she has that strand?"

"…..strand?"

"The loose strand of hair. Ya know…on her right temple. It's always loose. Always stubborn. She's constantly having to flip it back with the rest of her hair towards her ear and stuff."

"Yeah? What about it?"

"I think it's absolutely adorable."

"Er…okay. You're nuts, Cyborg."

"Seriously! I'm not joking! I'll even say it right now…Raven and her little strand…"

"Hehehehe!"

"Shut up! Heheheh….Raven and her little strand is sexier than the other two girls we fight crime with combined!"

"Gee….how special."

"Cuz it just shows that….she can deny it all she wants….but deep down beneath that cold and gothic exterior, Raven's a real pretty girl and she can't fight it. Hehe….I think it's a rather happy thought."

"Yeah….too bad the rest of her head can't take a clue."

"Beast Boy!"

"I'm just saying! You'd think she'd at least try not to look like the bride of Frankenstein some mornings! I mean…she's more than able to! Just a matter of fashion, I guess…"

"And you say I'M shallow…."

"Jackals behind your back!"

"Got 'em, dawg…"

"…………….," I take a deep breath.

Before I know it, my right hand is up besides my face.

I freeze.

My violet eyes glance right. Through the peripheral of my vision.

My fingers are in the act of pushing a stubborn strand of blue hair out from my forehead.

I bite my lip.

I shudder.

I leave the hallway outside of the laboratory.

And I press on forward.

I do not know if I mean to take the detour that I do.

But, regardless, I walk through the gym.

And rather coincidentally, Robin is there. Slamming his fists into a punching bag and putting forth a real sweat. His costume is discarded, and right now he presently wears a white cotton gi indicative of martial arts schooling.

"Nnnngh!" WH-WHAP! "HIYAAA!" THWACK! "Rrrgh!" WHUMP!

I could easily walk around him, but instead I take the short route and walk in front of him for some reason.

And at sight of me, he stops and leans against the punching bag. Sweating.

"H-Hey….R-Raven…."

I simply nod my head. "Robin….."

"Heading to y-your room?"

I freeze in my steps.

I slowly gaze towards him. "How did you know?"

"J-Just a guess….," he pants. He brings a smooth forearm up and wipes the sweat off his brow before turning to march towards a nearby bench. "You seem to be spending time up there m-more and more these d-days…"

"Forgive me if I'm being a little too much myself," I drone. I don't mean to be that sarcastic. It just comes out.

"Nothing wrong with you being yourself, Raven…," Robin picks up a towel and dabs at his chest and neck. Still regaining his breath. "I just worry about you sometimes…"

"…….," my violet eyes narrow. "Worry…..about me, Robin?"

"We go through a lot, us Titans. And sometimes the stuff that we face out on the street isn't pretty. And our way of dealing with it may be to retire to our rooms and stay alone and try to chase the thoughts away by ourselves. And I just want you to know, Raven, that we're all here for you if you need to talk about or discuss anything. I'm here for you. Okay?"

His lean muscles are sheen with sweat. Smooth skin. A tight, damp body beneath the gi.

"Raven?"

His black hair slicks over from sweat. His face stone-firm yet soft in inquiry. Gentle lips moving….

"Raven? Are you okay?"

"……..," I blink. "Erm….y-yes, Robin. I…."

I turn sideways from him some. My right profile exposed.

"….I'm just tired, that's all."

"I understand. You take it easy, okay?" he smiles.

I nod. A drone: "I'll do what I can…"

And I leave him, leaving the gym, leaving the noise as the Boy Wonder resumes his punishment on the training devices.

When I enter my room, I immediately strip of my robe, leotard, and underwear. I grab a towel and some shampoo and head for my washroom. As I start the shower….letting the water warm up….I can't help but stand still.

I turn. I face the mirror. Naked. Pale as ever. Like a ghost or a liquid smooth corpse risen from the grave. The chakra stone in my head stands out like a moon in the dark contours of the tile around me.

I turn sideways from the mirror some. Exposing my nude right profile. As if from a distance. What a distant stranger would see.

I raise a gentle hand to my forehead. The stubborn strand….

I slowly push it up to rejoin my bangs.

And I stare at myself, my hand frozen up there.

I sigh.

The water is warm.

I erase the mirror from my eyes, turn, and walk into the stall.

When I'm not meditating, taking showers is the best thing when all I want to do is cry.


	20. Dark

﻿

I'm rather surprised to hear the knock at my door. It's nighttime outside the window of my room. The Bay Waters reflect starlight and the Cityscape slopes into evening shadows. I've been floating in the middle of the room for the last hour or two straight for late afternoon meditation. I don't even realize that time has flown by.

There's a knock at the door again.

I grumble.

I land on my feet. I pad across my room to the door. I slide it open.

"Yes….?" I drone. "……" I blinke.

A pair of eyes shiver in the hallway. A pair of frightened, green glowing eyes.

I squint into the blackness of the corridor. "Starfire?"

Her voice is a comical blend of trembling and nervousness. Shakily, she utters: "S-S-Sorry to t-t-trouble you, R-Raven….b-b-but might I request f-from you a c-candle or an electric t-torch of bright illumination?"

"What, are you planning on a trip in the basement?" I murmur. "Just flip on the lights, Starfire…."

She trembles. "B-But all the lights in the T-Tower are out!"

"……," I glance both ways up and down the hallway. "They are?"

"Y-Y-Yes. Just m-minutes ago," she's hugging something to her chest. It looks like a pillow or an alien stuffed animal. The fezzy tendrils coming off the huggable object at random locations must be a Tamaranian homemaker's mimic of tentacles. "My t-trek here has been through h-horrible darkness…"

"M-Must be blackout," I utter. "The City does tests of the power grid this time of year anyways. Nothing to worry about. I'm sure it will be on in a matter of hours."

"But it is most certainly d-dark as of th-this moment!"

"Oh, well, I'm sure there are some candles and lighters in the kitchen," I say curtly and move to slide the door close.

Starfire urgently sticks her head forward. "B-B-But your room was c-closer! And all th-the other friends have d-departed for the evening out!"

"Starfire….," my eyes thin as I regard her. "Is there something wrong? Something you're not telling me?"

She bites her lip, hugs her alien….thingy closer and looks aside. "I am…..m-most in need of a candle or a flashlight right about now…."

"Why not just light up a starbolt? That'll help."

"Th-That takes great concentration. Besides….it is not the same…."

I stare at her. And I blink. And I think.

"You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?"

She fidgets.

I roll my eyes. "Well, tough luck. Heroes should be used to unexpected outcomes, and if you can't handle a little blackout then—"

"Pleeeeeease, friend Raven!" Starfire rocks back and forth. "I implore you! I shall not trouble you further from now on! I promise you, if you help me out for this instance I will do my best to prevent all manners of joyful annoyances from assailing your person!"

That sounds promising, actually…..

I look at Starfire. I look at her trembling. In her state, handing her a candle would be a one-way ticket towards burning the Tower down.

"Come on in….," I slide the door open wider.

She trembles, but blinks in confused hesitancy. "R-Raven? But…..th-th-this is your room…."

"I know. It's okay," I smile ever so slightly and gestured inward with a hand. "Just don't knock anything over. It's pretty dark."

"Mmmm….," she whimpers and floats in limply.

I slide the door shut behind her.

Minutes later, I have a ring of candles set on the floor. All of them are lit and flickering gently in the cool, quiet room. A circle of amber warmth glows in the center of my abode, and beyond the cold blue of the night and the watery Bay beyond loom in languid silence.

Starfire sits her trembling self down quite close to the ring of fire, cross-legged, hugging her stuffed extraterrestrial to her chest. She lets out one shuddering sigh of—what I hope is relief.

"I swear, Starfire….," I light one last candle before extinguishing the match in a glass tray. "You have super Tamaranian strength. I've seen you tackle Cinderblock one on one and throw your body through Fang's strong web silk,….but you can't handle a little darkness?"

"Darkness is bad bad bad bad bad bad _bad bad bad bad bad **bad!**_" the alien clenches her eyes shut and shakes her head left and right. "It is most difficult to summon joy in a realm that is absent of illumination!"

"Heh….maybe you should start finding yourself a new philosophy."

"It is not that!…..Ohhh…," Starfire hugs her plushie to her chest and looks over at me as I levitate by her. "When I was a young gibforb….I accidentally fell down a slimy Orthax Niche. It was cold and filthy and DARK there. I have not accumulated good memories from that instance. Dark situations have troubled me ever since."

"Oh….um…..th-that's too bad….," I sit on the bed and recline to a book. I flip few a through pages. I pause. I look over at her and the candles. "How long were you in that Niche?"

"F-For as long as it took my fellow neighbors to retrieve me from the nearest Orthax orifice…"

I blush and clear my throat. "Uh…..l-let's keep your mind off the dark and focus on other things, how's that, Starfire?"

"I do apologize, Raven. On my home planet, my sleeping nook is graciously stocked with nightlights. Here in my room, Robin has made great efforts to supply me with similar materials. But alas, a lack of Terran electricity makes that futile…."

"Where are the others, anyways?" I hadn't noticed them take off. I never do. They must be lost in the blackout by now. Should I be concerned? Probably not….

"Robin and Cyborg drove in the T-Car to look at new…erhm….'buh-ling' for Cybort's 'whipp'. I do not know what their expletives meant, but supposedly they are experiencing an endeavor full of realistic canines."

"Ummm…."

"And Beast Boy and Terra ventured out on a trip to raid Italian restaurants of their pasta, or so the changeling enthusiastically declared. But Terra seemed to be preoccupied about something. Bashful, even. Tell me, Raven, what would Beast Boy and Terra need 'protection' for if they already have their Titan communicators with them?"

"Ahem…..you know what….forget about them," I sigh and flip through more pages while on my page. "Nnngh….wish I was a good conversationalist."

"Y-You need not f-force yourself to talk to me, Raven…," Starfire stammers. "Your candles shall suffice nicely."

I blink. "Oh….uhm……..all right."

"……."

I tilt my nose into my book, aided by the edge of amber glow.

Starfire sits on the floor, hugging her plushie.

I am silent.

She is silent.

"………"

"………."

"………you can learn a lot from someone by looking at their candles."

I winced, face tensing. An artery pulsing in my temple. I shake it off and grumble: "Yeah….uh huh…."

"For instance, Raven, your candles are gentle. Scented. Almost magical…," she murmurs while staring gently into a smoothly glowing little flame. "They mimic the grace that you exhibit when fighting crime with your meditation."

"What are you trying to flatter me for this time, Starfire?" I murmur, flipping a page. "I have lent you all the hair braids I have. I don't even use them anymore."

"It is not flattery, Starfire. It is observation," she glances up at me. "Your candles hold a mystery. Something precious like yourself."

"You don't say….."

"Hehehehe….you are humble, yes?"

"I am merely who I am," I mutter as I scan down a page. "It shouldn't interest you more than usual."

"Surely by now, Raven, you must realize that I am always interested in my friends."

"Gee, Starfire, it never occurred to me."

Her green eyes are thin. "Is this the 'blatant sarcasm' that Terra keeps telling me about?"

I glare at her suspiciously. "What does Terra keep telling you about?"

"Eep!" she retreats to the candles and her plushie. "N-Nothing!"

"What does Terra say?"

"M'bittu! F'voratta siul klip!"

"Nnngh…," I sigh and return to my book. "Never mind…"

Starfire slowly turns to look at me again. "Do you think that…..Terra and I make good friends, Raven?"

"You two are certainly noisy enough," I drone.

"Hehehehe….you jest! But seriously, Raven…."

"I dunno, Star….," I half-glance at her with the book in my hand. "I suppose….if you're happy when you hang out with her, that's what matters. Right?" I don't really know.

She hesitates a little. She bites her lip some and says: "No, Raven. I do not believe it is as simple as that."

"Hmmm?"

She tilts her head up to look at me. "I….believe that the best friendships are not dependent on the level of joyfulness…."

"……..," I drop the book and glare at her. "Who are you and what have you done with Starfire?"

"Hehehehehe….please! Listen!"

I lean my chin boredly against my hand.

She proceeds: "A friendship….a true friendship is something that makes you feel safe. Safe and secure."

"Do you not feel safe around Terra or something?" I drone.

"That is not what I insist on conveying…," Starfire says. "But rather…" She smiles gently at me. "I feel much safer and much warmer with you, Raven."

I raise an eyebrow. "Warmer?"

"It is almost like how I feel with Robin. Both happy….a-and safe."

"But….," I blink. "You annoy me half the time, Starfire, and I yell at you."

"Hehehehe….I know…," she sing-songs. "That is how I know."

"How you know what?"

"That you are being honest with me, Raven. And in extreme cases…you will do what's best for me, and what is best for us."

"…………….you're wyrd," and I return to the book.

"I am being honest, friend!" she implores. "In many ways, Raven, you are like the older sister I wish Blackfire was to me….."

"………..," I take a breath. I look at her. "You…..don't really mean that….."

"Oh……but I do….," she nods.

"……..," I glance off into the shadows retreating from the candleflame. "Funny…….I…..don't know what it's like to have a sister……"

"Truly?"

I look at her.

She looks at me.

I say: "I always imagined it being a ruthlessly annoying ezperience."

"Truly?" she smiles. "Hehehehehehe….."

A beat.

"……………….," I take a deep breath. "How are you doing?"

"I-It's not so bad now."

"The candles bright enough for you?"

"Yes, Raven. Voluminous thanks…."

"Here…." I clap the book closed and place it on the bed. I slide off and float over across the candles from her. "…be still."

I place my fingers into a meditative pose and chant.

The flames flicker and glow a bright blue.

The room lights up more.

Starfire palms her two hands together and coos.

My lips curve slightly and I ask if she likes it.

She fervently nods and goes on about an experience with dancing Vegan Flames of the Drenthax Nebula.

I ask her how an alien who has been in the pitch black recesses of space can be afraid of the dark.

She upturns her nose and asks me why I allowed her into a room that is supposedly forbidden to all Titans.

I say 'touche' and then listen as she rambles on about her and her family back at home and bonfires they lit on the Tamaranian countryside for various folklore festivals and activities.

I tell her about the fire meditation rituals in Azarath under the tutelage of the higher acolytes.

She tells me about her teachers back at her Tamaranian learning institutions.

I ask her about her classmates.

She asks me about earthling teenagers.

I ask her about what Robin's been teaching her.

She asks me about boys.

I ask her about boys.

And somewhere two people giggle under the halo of girl talk and on into the night the power flickers back on and the other teammates return home but nobody notices and nobody cares and nobody is none…

The wiser.


	21. Goth

﻿

"This party is pointless."

"Everything's pointless. Wanna go talk about it?"

"……….."

"……….."

"I don't know why I came here. All I heard was that there was a creepy, run-down warehouse. Not some wannabe gas chamber."

"Yeah. I hear ya. All I ever come here to do is get stoked."

"Aren't you kind of young?"

"Nah. Just root beer."

"Go figure. It's herbal tea for me."

"That gets you stoked?"

"It helps me meditate."

"Meditate. Gawd…..I sure wish I was doing that right now."

"And what are you doing here?"

"It's a learning experience….yeah…..I just sit back and watch the detritus of post-industrial society run its hormonal course into the ground."

"Can't you do that at school?"

"I don't go to classes. I'm home-schooled."

"Hmm. Lucky you."

"Eh. It sucks. Sometimes. My mom's a real stickler for anything that the sun shines on. If you couldn't tell from my skin."

"And yet she lets you wander out and visit late night rave parties."

"Pfft…I snuck out. Fifth time in a row. She's gonna have my head on a plate in the morning. Let her bitch and moan for all I care. Not like she really cares about my life."

"She only home schools you."

"Indentured brainwashing is more like it. Sometimes I think I'm gonna grow roots in the carpet. Ya know what I mean?"

"No, not really."

"It's gotta suck being a Titan at times. Saving so many miserable people and not getting credit for it."

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I wish people could save their own cats out of trees."

"Then why do you go out all the time? Or for that matter, why do you let that fruity dude in the cape give you orders all the time? It's about time someone told him to piss off."

"Robin's a lot smarter than his egotistical shouting voice makes him sound. You wouldn't know unless you trained and fought alongside him."

"Eh, all right. My bad. I'll lay off the Caped Crusader…."

"No, really. It's all right."

"Is it?"

"I just don't get it sometimes. Why do my teammates have to be such…..kids, so much?"

"Heh….maybe because they are kids."

"Then what does that make me?"

"A hell of a lot smarter."

"No, not smarter. It's something else. I'm different from them. But I wouldn't call them less intelligent…….well, except for maybe Beast Boy."

"Heh. You got my vote on that. I don't even know the dude and I can tell he's a total poser."

"Cyborg's got a level-head. Half the of the time. The other half, I just want to switch him off."

"Is there anyone on your team that….ya know….relates to you more often than not?"

"To tell the truth, no. And I kinda sorta like it that way."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Meditation is all about centering the self. When you get other minds thrown into the mix, chaos bleeds more than anything else."

"But if you could choose any one of them Titans to meditate with, who would it be?"

"That's a hard one. I can easily say who'd I _like_ to see meditate on his own so that he could grow up overnight."

"Heh….Beast Boy?"

"That's the one."

"But who'd you like to meditate with you?"

"…………………."

"Tough question?"

"Robin's the only one I can see doing it. But I dunno…..if he meditated anymore, he might implode on himself."

"Bigass ego?"

"He's full of something, all right. 'Hardcore' is the word for it."

"Sounds like my mother. I wish she'd pick up on meditation or something."

"Why, so she can implode and you'd be rid of her?"

"Nah, I'm not that dark. If she meditated, then I could walk by her and sneak out more. Heheh…."

"I don't see how this place could be any more pleasing than this lovely 'home' you keep hinting about."

"Eh….it's a change of scenery. Besides….I dig the music."

"Really?"

"……_Some_ of the time……"

"Right…..:"

"But I like classic stuff myself."

"You're not alone."

"So, you like show tunes?"

_SWOOOOOSH-CRASH!_

"!"

"…………….."


	22. Blind

﻿

"Cyborg, please, I'm not an invalid. I can walk on my own."

"You can't _see_, Raven!"

"Of course I can see!…….J-Just…..a little painfully."

"Mmmmrfff…..I wish you could see my eyes, girl."

"Lemme guess. They're rolling."

"My right one is. My red one is just sticking a digital tongue out at you."

"Seriously, Cyborg. I'm fine. You can let go of my hand out."

"Just bear with me a little bit more, Rae. We're almost to the Main Room."

"This is utterly ridiculous. Let. Me. GO!"

"Want I should carry you?"

"…………lead the way, cowboy."

"Well alright!"

I groan.

This is demeaning.

My eyes are clenched shut, and still I can see white pinprick butterflies swimming their sharp way across my blackened retinae. If I open my eyes, the butterflies burn like stars going supernova. It hurts….but not in an agonizing way. It's all merely….annoying. Frustrating.

"Ugh….."

"Feeling dizzy again?" Cyborg asks. He's holding my hand. He's been holding my hand all this time. And 'all this time' translates to the last twenty minutes from the crime scene back to the Tower. Leading my blind way through streets, T-Car, and Tower. Now we're in the elevator, rising up to the floor where the Titans' Main Room is. And still he won't let go of my hand.

"No. Not dizzy. Just…."

"Pissed?"

"Sure. Why not."

"Hehehe. I can't blame you for not being a happy camper. The way Dr. Light zapped your eyes back there with that optic blast ray of his, I'm surprised your head didn't burn off!"

"The effect's only temporary. You know that. I know that."

"True. But ya gotta admit, Rae. That villain doesn't particularly like you too much."

"He can take it out with his 'Mommy' once he's back in his jail cell. Erm….how was the fight going anyways?"

"Last time I saw, Robin's steel boot was smashing the dude's helmet crest in two."

"Owch."

"Real hardcore vengeance right there."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Why's that, Rae?"

"When Robin gets vengeful about anything, it isn't pretty."

"You mean it ain't pretty for the punk who's deserving it! HA!"

"It isn't pretty _period_. Ugh….I don't want Robin going overboard while on duty….least of all over me."

"Raven, you're our friend. I can't blame him for wanting to clean that towel-head's clock. I would be out there busting ass myself….but, to be honest, I'd rather be here…helping you out. Besides….it's the gentlemanly thing to do!"

_Ding!_

Schwissh!

A wave of air conditioning.

The elevator has opened to the Main Room.

Cyborg's metal hand gently leads me into the chamber.

"Heh…..'gentlemanly'. I didn't think you were that old-fashioned, Cyborg."

"Heheheheh."

"Me….old fashioned. That's a new one."

"Well it's true."

"I've been called 'state-of-the-art', but not old-fashioned."

"What, are you insulted?"

"No, girl! Not at all! I'm pleased to lend you a hand!"

"………..pleased?"

"Ahem. Uh…..H-Here we are! The Main Room! Now what do you know?"

"……………'pleased'……"

"You just sit right here. Nice and easy."

"Cyborg….you're making this too—"

"What?"

"…………never mind. Chivalrize away."

"Heheheheheh."

"Nnnngh…," I groan as he 'helps me' sit down on the couch of the Main Room.

"Just stay right there. I'll be back."

I sit with my eyes tightly shut on the couch and fold my arms indignantly. "What in Azar's name are you doing now?"

"Making you feel comfortable…," his voice grows distant as he wanders over to where I judge the kitchen area to be. "Can I get you anything in the meantime?"

"Yeah. How about a sniper rifle so I can find Dr. Light's head from up here in the Tower and send his brains on an expense-paid vacation to gravel land?"

"Pfft….heh, _as if_, Raven!" Cyborg's voice emanated from a ring of cabinet door squeaks and clapping china. "You can't see for beans, much less commit heinous murder from long range."

"I don't think I need to bother. Robin's most likely doing enough legal murder for the two of us."

"Here here."

More creaking.

More clattering.

Then….the pouring of water.

"…………," my forehead creases over a pair of shut eyes. "What are you _doing_?"

"Making you tea."

"What?"

"Herbal, right? Where do you keep the bags—AH! There!"

"Cyborg, that isn't really necess-"

"So what? It helps you meditate, right?"

"Silence and INDEPENDENCE makes me meditate."

"Well, how about relaxation?"

"How fast can you unscrew your head?"

"No can do, little lady. This evening is all about you feeling better. And that means sitting back and taking it easy."

"Oh wow….I am being 'assaulted' by the Casanova…."

"Hehehe….and don't you know it."

"………………..do you even know HOW to make tea?"

"Why not? I've watched you many a time."

"You're going to burn yourself…."

"Uh…..Rae? You're talking to the guy who can withstand molten steel at point blanc range. Not to mention Beast Boy's tofu barbecue sauce."

"Okay. I'd stand corrected if I could only keep my balance."

"You'll be fine. Besides, if I do a bad job of it—and I won't—you can kill me for it later."

"Disassemble?"

"Heheh…..yeah….disassemble."

"Hmmm…..I fathom the idea, and it tickles me."

"If you say so."

"And I do.'

"…………"

"……….do they hurt?"

"Hmmm?"

"Your eyes."

"Good."

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh….just…."

"Just what?"

"It'd be a shame if your eyes were hurting."

I turn my head in his direction.

"So?"

"Er…."

"I can handle it."

"Why should you?"

"I wouldn't have a choice."

"But…..wouldn't the universe be a better place if you weren't suffering, Rae?"

"Whatever."

"………..I think so….."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Cyborg?"

"Oh! It's done!"

"Hmm?"

"The tea."

"Oh."

Heavy, titanium footsteps.

"It's kinda warm. Handle it from the saucer and not the—"

"YES, Cyborg. I know. You speak to me like I've never had tea before."

"You've never had _my_ tea before."

"That a threat?"

"Only if you want it to be."

"Ooh boy. This will be thrilling."

"Put your pretty little hands out."

"Please?"

"More pampering and less patronizing."

"Yes'm."

I stretch my hands out.

"Well? Give it to me."

"Here we go…."

A tiny saucer. Like the one of the ones I typically pick out. It feels surprisingly cool.

"Did you heat it at all?"

"Yup! Gonna give it a sip?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I was beginning to enjoy living."

"Hehehehe…._Rae!_"

"Pfft…fine…."

I blindly lift the hot teacup to my lips. I pace myself. I slowly sip. I swallow.

"………"

"……….well?"

"…………..hrm……"

I tilt my blind face up towards him.

"I'd say I was seeing rainbows, but…"

"But what?"

"……..I'm blind."

"Awwww….pfft! That's just a cop out, girl!"

"Mmmm….."

I sip again.

Lips slightly curved…..


	23. Flee

﻿

"Raven….," Beast Boy hisses, tip-toeing his way through the dank and dark sewer after me. He isn't alone. Terra is sneaking along beside him, just as pensive and edgy. "Do you have any clue where we're headed here?"

I march forward. I lead the path. And I groan: "Robin gave me charge over this branch of the team."

"So?"

"If we get lost…let me worry about it."

"Th-Then are we lost?" Terra bites her lip.

I grit my teeth. "We are alive…which is the least I can say about you if you keep interrupting my concentration."

"What concentration? Just what are you doing exactly?"

"I'm extending my senses beyond the turns in the tunnels of this sewer. If my calculations are right—"

"Hehehehehe," Beast Boy hoarsely giggles.

"……," I turn my head and glare back at him.

He wipes a tear from his eye, smiling. "Sorry….just you saying 'calculations'. You sound sooooo much like Cyborg."

"Hehehehe!" Terra utters beneath a breath. "Good call, B.B.!"

They high-five.

"……….," an artery pulsing in my temple, I turn and glare ahead. "I should leave you to the rats."

"We heard that."

"I know."

"How's this going to solve the mystery of the missing wax museum pieces? I mean…," Beast Boy shrugs and continues to test my nerves. "….it's too hot and stinky down here to keep any Marlon Brando statuettes solid for long."

"You are….breaking….my concentration….," I snarl.

"Rest easy a little, Raven!" Terra smiles. "What's the worst that could happen?"

_SLOSSSSH!_ We fall down an inclined pipe in the dark that cascades with frothing sewer water down for a full flight and into the muck of the dark abyss below.

_SPLASH!_

I submerge, come up for air, and regret doing so…for my first breath is full of stench.

I close my eyes. Meditate. And try to calm down.

And then Terra and Beast Boy fall on me.

_SPLOOSH! SPLASH!_

Followed a split second later by their screams.

"DAAAAH!"

"WAAAAIEE!"

We all three come up, gasping. Sputtering.

Terra bites her lip. "If I inhale…..another breath….nngh….I-I'm going to cry….."

Beast Boy sniffs. "W-Way ahead of you."

"Mmm….," I hum and lower the hood of my cloak. My hair sopping wet, I clench my fists and wade forward through the sewer system. "We are moving forward. We are making process. And we are not distracting me…."

"Oh yeah!" Beast Boy rolls his eyes and barks at me from behind. "Blame it on me that you're a little tangle-foot and send us all tripping to our darkened slide of doom!"

"When I get home…," I start to hiss. "I will be taking a long shower….using soap….made from the ashes….of your ROASTED BODIES!" The last words of my exclamation are accompanied by a four-red-eyed glare in their direction.

Beast Boy is already hugging Terra, his eyes widely set on me as are hers.

"………..," he whimpers. "I think I soiled myself."

Terra mutters: "Does it matter _here_?"

We press on.

I moving forward.

The two of them following behind.

And suddenly….a huge spotlight illuminates us.

_FL-FLASH!_

I wince and hold an arm up, braving the brightness.

Terra and Beast Boy likewise wince.

"Wh-Whoah!"

"What the…?"

_"Well…..come into my junkpile said the spider to the fly!"_ and obese voice floats toward us.

Beast Boy winces. "Oh jeebus…that voice…"

"Huh?" Terra innocently blinks, batting some water out of her ears. "Who's that?"

"Just perfect," I groan. I call out to the brightness: "Why don't you come out of the light so we can see you, Control Freak?"

_Th-Thwoosh!_ The rotund rat leaps down and stands on a bricklaid platform above the underground sewage. He leans on a random pipe and smirks, twirling a remote in his hands. "So….the Teen Titans got themselves a new tomboy! What, wasn't your rosters angsty enough with you on the crew, Raven?"

"Hey!" I snarl….surprised as much as Terra is that she snarled the same thing at the same time as me.

"Hehehehehehe!" Control Freak twirls like a lopsided ballet dancer and strikes a Klingon pose. "The mimicry is strong with this one!"

"Stealing wax ornaments, Control Freak?" I frown.

"More like…..RENTING! Those priceless figurines deserve a better home!"

"One as filthy at this?" Terra snaps. She frowns. "Heh….guess wax sacks of a feather flock together, creep!"

I hold a hand up. "Quiet, Terra, I can handle this…."

"Hrumph!"

"Trust her, Terra…," Beast Boy whispers to the blonde newcomer to our team. "Raven knows what she's doing…"

"I see that you little mynocks need to respect my pond a bit more!" Control Freak smirks and fingers his remote.

Beast Boy: (to Terra) "Raven's brave….."

The obese villain aims his remote at the water and clicks. "Let's see if you outlive the Apocalypse faster than my little friends!"

_CLICK!_

Beast Boy: (to Terra) "She knows exactly what to….d-do….."

_SPL-SPLOOOOOOSH!_

_**RUMMMMBLE!**_

A cockroach suddenly enlarges to the size of a commuter bus and looms before us, tossing and flaying its mandibles: "SKREEEEEEEE!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Control Freak cackles. "Scatter, Titans! Scatter!"

I grit my teeth. "Terra…..Beast Boy…." I get into a fighting position. "Listen to me carefully…"

Facing the big bug, Terra and Beast Boy mimic my stance and raise their fists.

"Follow my orders to the period," I hiss…glaring with menace at the bug.

"SKREEEEEEEEEE!"

I take a deep breath. "………….FLEE!"

I turn and run.

_Sploosh-Sploosh-Sploosh-Sploosh!_

"………..," Beast Boy blinks.

"……….," Terra blinks.

They look at each other.

Terra simpers: "I-I like her strategy."

Beast Boy nods. "She's the best."

"_SKREEEEEEEE!"_

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

_Sploosh-Sploosh-Sploosh-Sploosh!_

**STOMP!-STOMP!-STOMP!-STOMP!**

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"


	24. Suit

﻿

The leotard actually evolves out of my first day of fighting crime alongside Robin. Back in the day, it was a dress or gown of sorts that I wore. A swaying blue robe and silver sashes.

I believe it was a bank robbery that we needed to foil. Robin was in his prime, as always. He danced around the criminals with his bullet-deflecting staff of his while I stood in the corner and twitched my arms and tried to do magic spells. It was rather unexciting. I yawned a few times.

But one crook ran for it. A crook Robin didn't see. I went after him, and for some odd reason I momentarily lost the impulse to levitate. Wham. Instant facial concussion. I had tripped on one of my sashes. I think a good few of the bank tellers laughed at my expense. To this day, that explains why a field of black telekinesis promptly ripped their hair out of their sockets.

Robin scolded me after that. For the sake of citizens' scalps everywhere, he asked me to wear a shorter skirt. I thought that was a very….cute tactic.

So I considered pants. Or maybe a pant suit. Or maybe something like what Oriental women wear in some of those Hong Kong movies I've happenstance-spied Cyborg and Beast Boy watching into the late night hours. I admire Chinese culture. They dare to be themselves in a growingly dim society such as America. Life by the toaster light and ancherperson smile. Feh.

I wanted to keep my robe. Or at least…a semblance of a robe.

Then Robin—ever the acrobat—told me about ladies' wear at circuses. What Robin happens to know about three ring circuses, I have no Azarathian clue. But leotards suddenly donned upon me as a well-thought-out choice. I checked my measurements. I sewed myself something out of homegrown materials. And….I had utter fecal matter as my result.

Turns out, Robin knows how to sew. He made me a fine first outfit. And later—after we got the Tower thanks to Cyborg's help—I found someone to mass produce me a whole wardrobe of them.

And I fell in love.

I never meant to come across as sexually alluring or exotic. A leotard gave me room to move, kept me from tripping, and allowed me the flexibility to take out or avoid crime physically if I have to.

It still does come in handy. I can't count the numerous times I've thrashed Jinx with it. Probably because I never have thrashed Jinx, but at least I've come close.

I would be proud. But pride is a waste of space. Thus, I have no egotistical attachment to my apparel. It doesn't hurt me when newspapers make fun of it or magazines display terrible pictures of my robe and blue piece or anything to that nature.

But it does annoy me right now as I stand here with Beast Boy rubbing his skull and Terra giggling and the changeling eventually uttering:

"Rather skimpy if I say so myself, Raven. Why'd you choose a leotard anyways?"

I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on my novel as I avoid his gaze from across the Main Room.

"Because if I wore a skirt, I'd have to worry about levitating over you."

"Hehehehehehe!" Terra giggles. "She sure got you there, Beast Boy!"

Robin smirks from where he prepares breakfast for himself besides the counter.

"Come on, Raven! Only I'm allowed to make jokes!" Beast Boy sticks his tongue out. "Besides….as if the underwear you'd choose to wear beneath that thing would be worth me oogling you for!"

I flip a page. "I don't wear underwear."

"………..," Beast Boy blinks. "Uhm…..y-you don't?"

I shake my head. "Not under this."

"Oh…..uhm……," he shifts where he stands.

"Beast Boy?" Terra murmurs in concern. "Is your nose bleeding?"

"Eh….-sniff-….no….exthuthe me….-sniff-….," Beast Boy hurries out of the room.

Terra runs a hand through her hair. "Okaaaay….wyyyrd…."

I take a deep breath and flip another page.

"You don't wear underwear under that?" Robin utters, making a face.

"For the last time, no….."

I look at him. I blink.

"Robin….is your nose bleeding?"


	25. Mark

﻿

"Robin, what is this….Christ's Mass?"

"It's 'Christmas', Star…," Robin smiles. "And it's a holiday celebrated around the world. Most notably by Christians to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ and—"

"It's all about presents and egg nog and sitting around the Christmas Tree with lights and stuff!" Beast Boy jumps in. "…..er….m-make that tofu egg nog."

"Hehehehe!"

Robin rolls his eyes under his mask. "As I was saying—"

"Eh…let her find out for herself, man!" Cyborg grins. He stands on the far side of the Titans Tower Main Room, hanging green plastic garland from the tops of the windows overlooking a frosted Bay. Snow lightly settles outside in a sleepy drift. Inside, it is toasty. Warm.

Comfortable…._but not quiet._

"I'm gonna buy you a special ornament, just for this occasion, Star!" Cyborg winks. "When we get the tree for this place, we'll hang it from the tallest branch and call it 'Starfire's First Christmas'!"

"I am grateful, friend," she cups her hands and smiles. "Is this such a 'gift' that Beast Boy has related about?"

"Heheh….I guess you could say that," Cyborg gestures.

"Yeah…thanks for beating me to the punch, Cy," Robin smirks sarcastically.

"Anytime, dawg."

"Robin…what gift would you like me to give unto you?" Starfire says.

Robin scratches the back of his neck. "Well….it's not really supposed to work that way, Star…."

"Oh?"

"The gift is supposed to come from your heart. I'd be happy with whatever you give me, cuz I'll know it's from you. Though—heh—to be honest, I'm sure I'll be too busy enjoying giving you and the others a gift—"

"Speak for yourself!" Beast Boy cackles. "Starfire, every year kids and people of all ages are entitled to making big-ass lists for Santa to bring them!"

"S-Santa?"

"Hooo….boyo….," Cyborg shakes his head.

"Yeah! Provided you give him cookies, of course. On my list…I'm putting a Moped! Top of the line!"

"Who is this Santa?" Starfire gazes at Robin, blinking. "Is he some nefarious villain allied to Slade?" She bites her lips and cups her hands together pensively. "Will we one day have to do battle with this Santa?"

"Hehehehe!" Beast Boy giggles.

"No, Star…," Robin pats Starfire's shoulder. "We most definitely will not be having to fight Santa anytime soon. He's full of holiday cheer and love for children around the world. And besides…" He turns and barks at Beast Boy: "He doesn't _exist!"_

"Daaah!" Beast Boy sticks his tongue out and waves a hand. "Go break the Christmas spirit, why don't you?"

"You're not some four year old, Beast Boy. If any of us are gonna share gifts, you're gonna have to pitch in too! And sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't think any of us on our allowances can afford a Moped!"

"Hahahaha!" Cyborg cackles and points a finger. "You tell 'em, Robbie!"

"And Cyborg? Good luck getting a gaggle of Hooters girls in your stocking."

"Awww shucks…"

Starfire drifts across the room and smiles at me. "Raven? Are you anticipating gifts this year from said Santa?"

"…….," I look up from a Dickens novel from where I sit on a kitchen stool. "Mmmm….hardly."

Cyborg whispers: _"What she really means is 'Bah Humbug'."_

"Heheheheh."

"Awww….you do not wish to join our wintry felicitations?"

I finger the empty pages of my book. "I stick to Azarathian holidays…."

"And those are?" Beast Boy asks.

"Never you mind…," I flip a page.

"Don't force Raven to participate if she doesn't want to," Robin gestures. "Batgirl never participated back in Gotham."

"Ah. Is she Jewish?"

"Nah. Druid."

"Heh….I'm just kidding!"

"Hehehehehe!"

"Robin's making a politically incorrect joke! Christmas cheer has gotten to him!"

"That's it! I'm making tofu egg nog!"

"No you are not, little man! Raven! Talk him out of it!"

"Beast Boy….go impale yourself on a candy cane."

"Awww…come on, girl! Make us a Christmas list this year! Pleeeease? Even I'll get you something!"

"……," I flip a page.

"Feh. Whatever. here, Star! I'll show you this popup book about Frosty the Snowman my parents got me when I was a kid."

"Awww! Soooo cuuuute!"

"Yeah! I always thought the pages would melt cuz—ya know—I grew up in Africa."

"Hehehe!"

"Hey! I know that illustrator!"

"Do you, Robin?"

"Yeah! Batman and I had to rescue an art museum showcasing his children's art once and….."

Their voices fade in the background. Like disappearing specks of snow.

I flip a page of my book.

I finger the edges.

I gaze over at them.

Silhouetted against the white and black world outside the crisp windows.

I gaze at my book silently.

……………………………_..Bookmarks._

I could really use some bookmarks.

Silence.

I sigh.

A long exhale.

I scan down the page and flip with my fingers sorely pressed against the edges.

_But I can't really ask them for anything……._


	26. Slash

﻿

"Look! Look! I've been meaning to show this to you for months!"

"Buzz off."

"Come onnnn, Raven! Lookie! Lookie!" Beast Boy pulls at my wrist and drags me over to the computer where a website is flashed open.

"Nnngh…," I groan and plop myself unwittingly in a chair. "Okay, Beast Boy….what is this?"

"Look!" he points eagerly at the screen and grins a crescent. "Fan fiction!"

"…………..what?"

"Ya know…fanfics! Stories written by fans about their favorite characters and heroes!"

"………………uh huh….."

"This is a Titan's site! Dude…check it out!" Beast Boy drags the mouse along the scroll bar and displays more and more of a list of links to text files. "People actually sit down at home and write stories about us! Cuz they love us so much!"

"You don't say….."

"Here's a fanfic someone wrote about me kicking Slade's ass! And get this….we're all _high school students!"_

My brow furrows. "Beast Boy…what is the point of this?"

"Doesn't this just titillate you? People actually think about us so much that—"

"—they obsessively produce voluminous text fictionalizing our existence?" I utter. "Beast Boy, that isn't a hobby. That's an obsession. It isn't healthy."

"Pfft! Then what's it doing on the Internet, Miss Bah-Humbug?"

"My case in point."

"……..huh?"

"Beast Boy….," I scoot the chair out and make to stand up. "…..I bet this is interesting, but I was doing more important things when you dragged me here."

He keeps me pinned down. "Like…..?"

"………….getting a hysterectomy."

"Pfft! What do you know? You haven't even given one of these stories a chance!"

"I don't want to. I only read quality things, Beast Boy. These crackjob language _golems_ are hardly…..**quality**."

"Hypocrite! Don't judge a book by it's cover!"

"This isn't a book. It's a _website_. The administrator's sign name is….'Miss MoonCloak' for goodness' sake…."

"You're behind the times, Raven!" Beast Boy winks. "This is the new wave! The next generation of literary finesse! Digital fanfiction….is……the FUTURE!"

"…………………..good thing I'm having a hysterectomy."

"Come on! At least give this story a shot!" He points with a mouse.

"…….," my violet eyes narrow. "_'The Salvation of a Star'?"_

"Yeah! It's by some author in Gotham City! The story's about Starfire and Robin going on an exodus to Tamaran and teaming up with the Sailor Senshi to defeat the forces of Lord Vader and Darkseid!"

"………..and this is legal……why?"

"Public domain, baby!"

"Yeah, okay. What's so great about this story besides its gargantuan accumulation of online fecal matter?"

"It's rated NC-17."

I jolt. "What?"

"Uhm….the author thinks that Starfire…..a-and Robin are…..—"

"Yeah……and you've read this?"

"Er….," he scratches his neck and simpers. "I think it's what they call a melon."

"_Lemon."_ Cyborg corrects as he walks up, sipping a Pepsi.

"What's that, Cy?"

"A lemon. A yarn. What's this, some sort of fanfic site?"

"Yeah, I was showing Raven and—"

"Beast Boy will die of a telekinetically induced aneurysm in t-minus ten seconds…," I mutter. Temple throbbing.

"Is that so?"

"She's just kidding—"

"Anything good at this site, dawg?"

"Yeah! They got one with you teaming up with Steel and Black Lightning to beat Metallo's brains in!"

"Hey! Way cool---," Cyborg blinks. "Wait a second." He raises a human eyebrow and frowns. "_Steel_ and _Black…..**Lightning**?_"

"D-Did I say Steel and Black Lightning? I-I meant Huntress and Black Canary…"

"Well alright!"

I groan, running a hand over my face. "Cyanide pill. Please, Allah. I entreat the now…."

"Oh don't be such a fussy-bottom!"

"This place regularly updated?"

"God, I hope so. I'm only on chapter eight of _Salvation of a Star_ and it's not even to the honeymoon chambers yet—"

"Say!" Cyborg smirks and raises his Pepsi bottle. "I know of this great Golden Sun fanfiction site where you can—"

"Nobody's interested in your handheld gaming life, Cyborg."

"………well _I'm_ interested."

"Monopolist!"

"You're going down little man!"

"Shhhh!" I suddenly hiss.

The two boys glance at me.

"Erp?"

"Wuzzah?"

I scroll down, gently staring at the screen. "I'm reading…."

"Ooooh!" Beast Boy grins. "You found a fic?"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

"Does it have you in it?"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

Cyborg smirks: "What's it about, Rae?"

"It's a romance."

"You don't say?"

"Lemme guess…..you and some adorable hunk from the Justice League?"

"Nope," I shake my head. Staring calmly at the screen. "Jinx."

"……….."

"Could you get me some tea?" I murmur.

"Uhhh…..h-huh?"

"Some tea—"

"OH! Uhm…s-sure, Raven…," Beast Boy blinks, turns wobbily around, and saunters towards the kitchen area.

"Thank you…."

Cyborg clears his throat, drinks some Pepsi down a rosy throat, and walks off. "H-Happy reading."

"Well noted," I nod and scroll down the page. I rub my chin. Reading. Reading. "………hmm….." I blink. I look over my shoulder. "And a Hersey's Bar?"


	27. Dance

﻿

"Well lookie there!" Cyborg smiles.

I glance at him curiously. "?" I then look across the deck of the fancifully decorated ship. "Hmm…"

Starfire and Robin appear to be in the process of….slow-dancing. The wreckage of the action-packed prom's tables and punch bowl and various foodstuffs litter the hull around them with scratch marks from the nefarious Fang's claws from earlier.

"Hehehehe…," Beast Boy giggles while cradeling an oversized….maggot thing of Killer Moth's on his knees. "Isn't that just cool? Er….in a mushy, cooties-filled sort of way."

"You still believe in cooties?" I utter, squinting at the changeling.

"On occasion. Nothing for you to worry about, Raven."

"Right…."

"_Rawwawaaawaaaraaw!"_ the conspicuous maggot happily chirps.

Cyborg plants his hands on his hips and smirks at the dancing duo. "I guess I can't blame them. With that Pussy girl messing with Robin all evening, they're bound to take some relaxation."

"'_Kitten',"_ I correct him.

Cyborg glances at me sideways. "Huh?"

"Never mind…."

"………," Cyborg then grins wide and extends a hand out: "Can I have the pleasure of a dance, Missy?"

"Whoah!" Beast Boy gawks.

"_Rawwr_!" the maggot gasps.

"…….," I raise an eyebrow. I look at Cyborg's gently extended hand. I look at him again. "……you've got to be kidding me."

"Heheheheh….not at all, cutie! It's a beautiful evening. What say you and I enjoy it together?"

"Wooo! Cyborg called you 'cutie'! He's going in for the goal, folks!"

I fold my arms, frown, and glare off towards the City Skyline. "Let him shoot and miss. on, Rae!" Cyborg smirks. "Live a little!"

"In _your_ arms? I hardly think so…."

"Oooh! Burn!" Beast Boy stands up. "That means I get to dance with her instead!"

"HEY!" Cyborg frowns and playfully punches the changeling's shoulder. "Don't be a capitalist pig, little man!"

"Ow! Hey! Losers can weep all they like! Winners—a.k.a. handsome comic relief guys with the pretty ears—get the beautiful, quietly reserved gothic chick!"

"I'd rather make love to a meat grinder," I roll my eyes.

"I'd be hurt if that wasn't so disgusting a statement."

"Face it, Rae! You're trapped!" Cyborg winks his human eye.

I glare at them. "Oh really…."

"Yup! You're gonna enjoy life, girl!"

"Which means living outside of your comfort zone a little!" Beast Boy beams. "Look at Starfire and Robin! They're doing it!"

"I think someone spiked their punch….," I drone.

"Uh uh uh! No coy breakings of the subject!" Cyborg points. "Now you're going to have to choose the handsomest of us guys by the end of the night and let us sweep you off your feet---"

"Ohhhh….my prince," I coo in a low, monotone voice. _Snatch!_

"…….," Beast Boy blinks. For his cradeling arms are now empty.

I have the maggot in my feminine hands. I hold its drooling mandibles up to my face and curve my lips up lovingly. "My handsome…handsome prince. Whisk me away to your tower, I beg thee."

_"Rawwwaaarawwwarr!"_

"Transylvania? Just like in my dreams. Now dance with me, you crazy fool…." And I twirl merrily with the grinning maggot off across the deck of the Date With Destiny ship.

"…………"

"Dude……..I think we just got turned down for a worm."

"Yeah…….makes me think of middle school." A beat. A sigh. Then Cyborg brightens and comically coos to Beast Boy: "Can I have the pleasure of this dance?" His hand extends.

Beast Boy recoils. "Dude! Ew! Mega-Ew!" He turns and marches down the ship's plank. "Dang it! Help me go find another maggot!"

And somewhere else, I'm twirling girlishly….


	28. Thinx

﻿

"HAAAA!" FL-FLASH! A wave of hex flies across the museum.

I roll out of the pink light and stand up, summoning a black shield around my figure: "Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

FWOOSH!

Jinx grits her teeth with angry cat eyes. She charges more and more pink energy streams and flings them at me.

FL-FL-FLASH!

FLASH!

I grit my teeth and reinforce my shield with two iron-strong wrists. The museum around me shakes and echoes with the blasts of the hex beams.

Jinx pants. Her eyes glow a dimmer pink as she attempts to recharge her powers.

I flick a wrist. I telekinetically charge a piece of knights' armor between two priceless paintings and send them flying, hurtling towards the pink-haired sorceress.

She cartwheels and slices through it with a hex blade. CHIIING! She squats on the ground and winks at me…a pale Cheshire.

I seethe and glare at her. "You will return those diamonds AT ONCE!"

"Sheesh! Listen to you! You sound like a police officer…," she sticks a pink tongue out at me.

"You don't seem to be taking me seriously…"

"Nuts to you, girl! H.I.V.E. needs this for….uhm….something important!"

"You're just doing regular gruntwork," I frown. "Do you even have a single idea what you're stealing that for?"

"I….uhm….er….w-well….."

"Hmmm?"

"Shut up! Stop flustering me, you bourgeoisie pig!"

I raise an eyebrow. "What did you just call me?"

"You heard me! You're an oppressor of the proletariat!" Jinx meows.

"Just because you're a criminal doesn't make you proletariat…"

"So what? I'm downtrodden!"

"Only cuz you ask for it. The proletariat never ask to be oppressed. They're born into a social class that is deemed to be the working order by the structure of the means of production…"

"Yeah! And the means of production is manhandled by the bourgeoisie oppressionists!"

"Only in this part of the world, perhaps, but oligarchy still reigns supreme in many puppet government and in parts of the Arab world you still have theocratic and absolute monarchal regimes fighting for political supremacy!"

"That's an overgeneralization!" Jinx frowns. "It's more than obvious that Lockean liberalism has dominated the majority of the globe and has converted the world into a resource-sucking supporter of self-consuming capitalism! The 'proletariat' can now be defined as a subconscious worldwide collective of third world countries biting the bullet for the sake of the United States, Western Europe, and maybe Japan for a dash of incentive!"

"Japan hardly counts. If you want to look for bourgeoisie and aristocratic domination, look towards the oil barons of Saudi Arabia. How could the world function—middle class or sans-cullotes—without their private control over fossil fuel distribution?"

"That's just the point! The dependency on fossil fuels is an illusion dictated by the ruling class! As Marx pointed out, history repeats itself in favor of an educated minority imposing propaganda and resource seizures in an effort to forcefully persuade the helpless, laboring majorities into supporting the sniveling affluent population between now and the future, totally hampering the possibility of a communal, classless society built upon mutualism and unanimous prosperity!"

"What do you know about Marx? He was merely a self-contradicting, lifelong critic of capitalist, not so much an avid supporter of socialist ideology! The only reason Marx's name has been blackened today is that people fall short of reading Capital and instead connect the _Communist Manifesto_ with the bastardization movement of Leninism and Stalinism!"

"He wrote a book called Capital?"

"Yes. It was his life's ultimate work. But he never finished because he died early of illnesses after aging research in Great Britain."

"He lived in Great Britain?"

"Yeah, didn't you know that? He was German born, but was forced to dwell outside of the very society he criticized."

"Ah….like so many others. I feel educated, thank you."

"I can discuss Locke and Rousseau with you over tea sometime if you like."

"Yeah, I'll consider that…."

"………"

"………!" Jinx snaps out of it.

"………!" I snap out of it.

"HAAAAA!" she flings a burning stream of hex at me.

I snarl and toss black talons of energy at her. FLASH!

The two streams meet in the middle of the museum and explode.

**POW!**

We're both knocked back against opposite walls.

"Ouchies!"

"Mmmf!"

"Capitalist czarina!"

"Pink-haired ignoramus!"

"HAAA!"

"ZINTHOS!

_**FL-FLASH!**_


	29. Pause

﻿

I realize now that my life is nothing but the pursuit of utter oblivion.

I am here because I'm a Titan. I'm a Titan because I fight crime on a daily basis. I fight crime on a daily basis because I have a respect for justice. I have a respect for justice because I desire the greatest prosperity for life. I desire the greatest prosperity for life because I know that I am full of death. I am full of death because I am the half-demon daughter of Trigon.

But I usually don't go that far in my minute-to-minute thinking.

All I see and all I know is that I'm a Titan. And I have these annoying blockheads that surround me…that constantly annoy me and give me headaches…that constantly beckon an unwilling sorceress to join them in their social play. And my strongest struggle is balancing my meditation with my sanity at the hands of them.

But the Titans are not my life.

What is my life?

My life is nothing but a momentary pause before death.

And each hour I spend with the Titans, I am wasting away into a black hole ticking like the time bomb that it is.

One day, the portal will open and it will suck everyone in.

Me.

The 'annoying souls' I fight with and—quite secretly cherish.

And the world around me. The world I struggle to protect.

But what do I do about that?

I ignore it.

I keep living in the now.

In my books of gothic poetry.

In teacups and incense candles.

The stretched muscles of my room's granite shadows.

This darkness will someday pounce upon me and freeze me from the inside out.

I know this…but I ignore this.

I submerge myself in that beautifully blinding darkness.

And I choke.

And it's all but the skin on the back of the neck of oblivion.

Like a slow-trotting stallion that I'm riding into the wall before eternity.

This deadly princess will ride on forever, if I let her.

And what will the Titans do of it? The Titans will be consumed. The Titans will be consumed because they're unwittingly supporting the self-obliteration of this princess called Raven. And in the end, they might hate her. And they may despise her for all she has done to delightfully deceive them all these months and years and—perhaps—decades.

Just because she kept to herself.

The quiet one.

The quiet one….and the lonely one.

Misery loves company.

Misery loves company indeed.

But…..

But I can't think of that right now….

We're going out for pizza.

They're dragging me along.

I think….

I think I will bring a book with me.

T. S. Eliot.

Time to dream of another wasteland far from me.


	30. Walk

﻿

Night has fallen.

It is cool outside with the shadows of stars bathing the land.

I know that the Titans are in the Main Room upstairs.

Beast Boy has cooked a tofu dinner. Cyborg is promising a double-feature of sci-fi epics on the DVD player. Robin has finished his training for the day and Starfire's decided to try wearing overalls around the Tower for the first time.

I slip on my blue robe.

I momentarily examine my hair in the mirror on the side of my room….but soon realize there's no point.

I walk quietly out of my room.

I march down the hall.

I reach the elevator.

I press a button to call for it.

I stand and wait.

I tilt my blue head up.

Deadpan.

I swear for a moment that I can hear the voices of my teammates.

Laughing.

Arguing over tofu helpings.

Raising a happy row about one thing or another.

Perhaps even starting the movie with its roaring surround sound.

I lower my head and stare at the elevator doors again.

Silent.

After a while, the elevator car arrives.

**Ding!**

The doors open.

I walk in.

I press the button for the first floor.

The doors close.

And I lower.

After half a minute, I softly reach the first floor.

I walk out of the huge double doors of the Tower.

The coolness of night cascades over me.

I take a deep breath.

I adjust the robe and pull the hood over my soft head.

I walk out gently into the dark night.

The City glitters in the distance.

Skyscrapers shimmer from rows of windows in an earthly twilight that challenges the stars.

I walk down the asphalt path that slopes away from Titans' Tower.

The rock bluffs of the island stretch higher and higher on either side of me.

Like a dark, black ravine.

The window blows through strongly here.

I clutch my blue robe around my shoulders, braving the rush of air.

I inhale the coolness.

The moistness of the Bay.

And soon, everything is gently swaying and lapping up around me.

I gently traverse the land ridge connecting Titans' island to the Main Land.

It is a thin stretched of raised rock and paved asphalt running straight between the two dry grounds.

In a way, it mirrors the Suspension Bridge to the west of us, across the waters.

I glance across the dark black waves.

The moon reflects in a rippling matter, stretching over till the shadow of the car-studded Bridge blots a sliver of it out with its own shadow.

The Bridge has long been a symbol for this City.

Its dark-gray granite structure embodies the neutrality of our City. Its seemingly plain figure in the wake of such sprawls as Metropolis and Gotham City. Here in this City, the sky is clear. Clean. Seemingly untouched and unblemished by evil. The crime here is as nefarious as anywhere, but it seems to lack the sadistic style and darkness of other famous Cities on this continent. In a lot of ways, that has made me thankful. And it has also made me bored. I take it all in stride. In stride…like my drifting across the land ridge.

I wonder about the people who are driving on the Suspension Bridge. Of those leaving, I wonder if there's somewhere important where they must go. If perhaps they are sick of life here…sick of the Titans…and sick of the gray granite that surrounds them. I think about those coming in. I wonder if they come here legitimately to live in peace. Or perhaps they are would-be criminals wanting to challenge us. Or tourists wanting to see the Titans or see the Ocean or see nothing at all. I envision families and dreams being born on that bridge. I then imagine dreams dying on that bridge. Of the water that swallows gravity up like a huge black hole beneath the wires and coils and concrete holding the connective monstrosity together.

I look forward to sleeping tonight. Drifting off like a maiden floating on the waters that now flex and dance around me. A midnight queen wafting off to meet Arthur…or Beowulf….or Boromir. I think about the sands of sleep like the sands of time like the molecules adrift in water, constantly shifting and constantly dancing and constantly sinking into dark, silent, sleepy oblivion. The atoms that make up human beings and decay into the ground and take the secrets of our existence further and further into the hot core of life's cauldron.

And where the water ends, the rock and asphalt begin. And I realize that man has toiled his muscles into granite to tame the earth that will not bow down to him. And it seems a funny irony of historic happenstance that the same world hunters/gatherers sexed the Neanderthals to dust in became the same urban theatre set caped teenagers with superpowers battle for.

Azarath has no history save for the frozen blood of its existential occupants. Whatever is left of my home dimension is awash somewhere in the cosmos like the water coldly dancing around me. Blue is a color close to heart. It's an aquamarine sage that mutely reminds me of what I've lost, what I live for, and what I both threaten and promise the world in the simple nature of my existence.

I've often dreamed of slapping myself alone inside a giant, iron-wrought box and dumping myself into the ocean where I'll sink and sink and sink to the deepest abyss never to hurt anyone ever again. In a lot of ways, just 'being alive' is accomplishing the same thing. But it threatens even more people. Here I am, walking out at night into the depths of the City. I haven't even reached 'dry land' yet and already I know that I am no better than a walking time bomb.

People think I'm pretty. Beast Boy has an indecisive crush on me. Cyborg treats me like a chivalry-deserving, pedestal princess and Robin—though he won't admit it—gets ever so slightly distracted by my feminine ways in the middle of mutual training or the crime-fighting battlefield. I know that the people of this City admire me. High school boys and teenagers working at fast food joints or random guys at the pizza parlor where the Titans and I frequently visit—they all look at me. Some of them flirt with me. Some of them say and gesture things that make me want to disembowel them. But I know that it's all their random ways of showing their appreciation of me. Some think I'm beautiful. Some think I'm sexy. Some are attracted to me for reasons they don't even know but merely want to look at me and try to find an answer. Then there are girls and youngsters who are fans of me. People who want to be like me. People who buy posters, artbooks, and even shirts about me. People who want to write fan fiction about the 'dark Titan' or produce shrines about me on the Internet. People think all manners of good things about me.

But nobody knows me.

I would never let them.

And I don't ever let them…

Not even Robin, whom I respect the most.

Not Cyborg, who I know is harmless in spite of his random immaturity.

Not Starfire, who I don't believe could ever understand me.

And sure as Hades not Beast Boy, who is just about as compatible with me as a shrew to a uranium ore deposit.

I can't let them know me because if they know me, then they all would hate me. I have to keep my distance….and as I've discovered them more often than naught _trying to get closer to me_, I have to make them want to keep distance too.

And so there's the bitterness. The cynicism. The sarcasm. The biting remarks. The incessant glares and the monotone drone that I so often employ with my voice.

I mean everything that I say to them. Not because I make myself believe it. But because I have no other choice. I can't afford to express my emotions. I can't afford to unveil myself like a bitter scroll. I can't let them see the real me. I must sink below the surface like a dark treasure inside a wrought-iron box and hide in the darkest abyss of the earth. Deep beneath the waters where man knows less than the surface of the moon. Both sides.

I suppose that my friends are concerned about me. I call them my 'friends' because it is only fair to them. I do not at all regret the way that I treat them or the fashion in which I distance myself. I am merely wanting them to know—in some fashion or another—that I am extremely grateful for their bravery. When I say 'bravery', I mean their willingness to exist around me. The fact that they haven't disregarded me as a phantom. A ghost of a girl. A demon in disguise—which is what I am for all intents and purposes. I want them to know that I admire them as heroes, and as crime fighters, and as human beings all around.

But I can't tell them that.

Not even to save my life.

It's not punishing myself.

It's preserving myself.

And….ultimately….

Preserving them.

I walk slowly along the last lengths of the land ridge.

I realize that I'm still 'hugging' myself in an attempt to keep the cloak steadily around me. My robe never really has a penchant for flying off in the breeze, so I realize that what I'm doing is a fruitless endeavor. I find that—these days—I hug myself a lot more than I used to. I do it a lot in bed. Especially in the middle of the night. When everything is so dark that I can hug myself and—in a way—pretend it's the arms of another person encircling me. And more often than naught, those arms are that of Aragorn, or Achilles, or Heathcliffe, or Rorek, or Lancelot, or—on rare occasions—Ford Prefect.

But lately those arms have belonged to none of them but myself. I see when I close my eyes at night the face of a lonely girl getting in and out of the shower. Her hair is soaked and her pale skin makes a nude body seem colder. Like she's been carved out of eye. And her violet eyes are like black bruises from her own fist. The blue hair is a funeral shroud. And she wraps her own corpse in sheets and lies in the mouth of a big, black bird every night to practice dying.

And that's why I began walks like this one. Walks on the horizon of the night. It reminds me—in whatever lonely fashion I have available to employ—that I am still alive. And that girl—that one person I intimately know in the mirror—is possessing warmth somewhere beneath the ivory exterior. And on warm days I might soon be able to pull her over to a park bench and talk to her. And I might finally have someone to bounce off of. To discuss the annoyances of Beast Boy, the tactics of Robin, the peculiarities of Starfire, and the dramatics of Cyborg. And we might laugh or we might cry or we might just blend in with each other and bleed and beat and breathe the same. All I want is for her to stop looking sad. To accept the way things are. The solitary frigidity of it all. That warmth is an illusion that we make ourselves chase like white rabbits in our black and white dreams, and maybe if we simply become the glass that divides our nude bodies in the bathroom mirror, we'll see the green haze of the world for what it really is. A momentary escapade in lunacy before death belatedly rocks us all to permanent, relaxing sleep.

I reach the Main Land.

The buildings and the streets open up to me.

Sounds of a City still alive past the sacred hours waft over to me.

Sounds of car engines and chattering voices and distant dogs and distant music and distant dreams hitting the floor or laughing against the onyx night sky…….

Noise to me means something akin to warmth. It is an intrusion. Warmth enters this universe on behalf of energy. In a perfect oblivion, there would be Absolute Zero. Inarguable cold. An all encompassing purity of nothingness. I cannot even begin to fathom the silence of that. Save for death.

But such an analogy cannot truly hold its own permanently. I do not hate warmth in the same way that I often dislike noise. I could do with a mute world. But not necessarily a frozen one.

I respect this world. This City. My life and my team members.

I do.

And it's not that I have a hard time paying that respect. I choose not to. Or at least, I choose not to pay respect in the manner commonly expected of me. To verbally reinforce my friends and tell them how much I admire them for simply existing would be giving things away too easily. I don't pride in being coy. At the same time, I don't desire some adverse strength in suspending the knowledge that other people have of me.

I just….don't like touching things. And I feel that most things should stay as such; untouched. Pure. Formless. The worst thing mankind did is the best thing mankind ever did: raise a hammer. But in a world that's constructed and rusting all around me, all I want to do is float free. I want my life to come and go like a maglev whisper. Propelled between the lines. Shadowed between the walls. Gentle….but touchless. Skinless, but not heartless.

I don't want to look at things from the sidelines. I'll gladly go to the front of the charge. I'll throw myself at life's troubles or my friends' enemies or any such chaos. But within the bubble of confusion is where I dwell best and continue to dwell best. It is something that meditation has managed to support within my person. It isn't so much strength as it is malleability mixed with versatility. I want to be a quasi-magnetic ghost with only a pinch of the apathetic. The world may surround me…swallow me even, but I want to regard the walls with as much distance as they can reflect me but not touch me. Wishful thinking yes, but it's worked so well.

I know that I am a time bomb. I know that it will take very little time and very little energy to rip open my chest and bloom forth the infernal portal. I hold this inside of me like a land mine from a war sixteen years running. I dare not talk about it, but I dare not ignore it either. My whole life is a half-digested afterthought boiling around in my stomach. And all I can hope to do is read to distract myself or walk, walk, walk, walk, walk it off…..

I walk it off with the shadows hugging me across streets. Down sidewalks. Under the doubly-cold brows of building faces. Families, young teens, and other local folk visiting the night scenes chat openly in the evening air. A few glance my way, but don't see me. The soft shadows afford me the leisure of seeing their smiling faces, distracted gazes, and innocently creeping lives.

This is a friendly City. Honestly. The criminals may be fierce, but they are few. The Titans have seen to it that those who live here can truly _'live'_ here. The night isn't a place of fear like in Gotham City. It is but one of many battlegrounds randomly fought when—as I see right now—solace and peace dwells in the chaos' stead.

Critics sometimes insist that the Titans are dwelling in a City that doesn't need protection. They call our career a 'part time job' or a 'kids' vigilante stand'. I don't hold it against such people to make those statements. Everyone in existence—especially the popular entities—are due some criticism or another at various points in life. The only thing that bothers me is what exactly it is that closes people's eyes to the good things that we have done and constantly do at times. I don't hate the intent of blind criticism, but rather the spark that blinds the eye to begin with. Are people made paranoid when we do too good of a job protecting the citizens around us? Perhaps meditation for most human beings requires chaos, and we have robbed everyone of such?

I have had myself thanked openly by many a child and adult before. Eleven times I have been hugged by perfect strangers after saving them from a gunman or a burning building. Three have even kissed me—one of whom was a she. And then I've received approximately nine hundred and seventy-two love fan mails. I know this because—after I dump all the fan service away—Beast Boy has the nasty habit of picking up my discarded memos and reading that which I dare not touch. He gives me details every now and then. Sometimes blushing. I haven't killed him for that. Not yet.

I frankly don't understand what possesses a person to spend so many long, obsessive hours writing to me or any of the Titans. I guess I'm supposed to be flattered, but it does the opposite for me. In fact, it almost insults me. The best way a person can ever thank me for having saved him or her is to live his days for himself and those around them, not waste them in writing junk mail that eventually I'll discard as the common plastic bag. It's such a waste.

To be honest, I'm surprised that none of my 'fans' or anyone else in the City in general has totally villainized me by now. I treat the media and the collective identity of the City with the same distance and sarcasm that I treat my teammates. And—combined with my dark image and obsidian ways, it can't be a great result. But alas, I still stand. They still make cursed _backpacks_ out of me. I've given up on the world in general. Even when they love me, I still feel sick and awkward.

The Titans know of my apathy towards receiving praise and admiration from the culture we fight crime in. And they constantly express shock and dismay—as always. Sometimes they think I'm punishing myself, or that I'm cold because of some angsty bitterness in my life. I know that that's all believable. But at the same time, I know that it's all untrue as well. Thus, I don't see a reason to explain myself when they inquire about me. When they wonder if I'm lonely. When they wonder if I'm dismayed. When they wonder if I'm depressed.

I stroll along the streets.

The cold air rushes down again.

The glittering lights of a theatre and a shopping complex where some outside pageant is being held shimmer and bounce an aura of brightness off my side.

I stay within the echoing ambiance of the distant reverie, but I turn my profile to the night-piercing halo and slide…slide…slide….

To where it's colder, moister, and softer.

The air increases in its down rush.

It smoothes across my limbs.

My robe and cloak's hoot wave in the drift.

I take a deep breath and hug myself. I press on.

Hugging myself………..

I am not depressed. I am simply existing.

I had a dream once that I woke up in the darkest room of the Tower. And I wanted to tell the Titans everything that was ripping myself apart from the inside out. I ran up the stairs, desperate. Heaving. But when I reached the Main Room where I expected everyone to be, the place was empty. The Titans—my friends—were gone. And I was all alone.

That was depressing. But that was an illusion. My life is far…far more lonely than that, but—for me at least—the real world is solvable while the dream world isn't. And the solution to my lonely existence is that it's an existence. Not a happenstance illusion.

I am bothered by existentialist, melodramatic preachers who moan that the world is merely a hallucination made to punish us for something we didn't do. People insist that existence is a cruel joke. That we are all born to die, and thus we are victims of a nameless, celestial conspiracy.

I believe that there is a lot of lunacy in our collective being. But hardly can one call existence pathetic or unfair. Cruelty is only a part of life. It doesn't spring from it. Even if Darwin somehow proves that red, tooth, and claw are all we have to depend up and not each other—human beings have proven that in a world constantly decaying down the ladder of violence, there survives amidst it a spirit of grace, redemption, and exoneration.

I am what I am because my mother sacrificed herself for me to continue breathing. After Trigon ravaged my mother, she could have done away with herself and all the pain she eventually would receive in bearing me and raising me in Azar. But she chose the difficult path of existence so that I may be blessed with a chance…

A chance to be.

Life is a momentary blink, yes. But things happen far faster than we give them credit for. Because all things—as far as we are concerned—are merely drawn out, hyperactive blinks that we give names and religion to. And those very blinks move mountains and I can move mountains too. Huge, holy mountains. The things that civilizations live and die to shape, I can rearrange, preserve, or destroy in a flick of breathy wrists. As can everyone. As can all things that simply sit back, pause, and squint at the lights hiding between the shadows. The untold hope we all stomp down into oblivion because all we see most of the time is the infinitesimal smallness that encompasses and overwhelms us.

I don't claim to be some sort of prophet. Or sage. Or oracle. Or deity. I'm not a 'Jane the Baptist' or a 'Joan of America'. I'm far too reclusive to be called someone or something to care about the eternal structure of a spiritual generation. I am simply a demon trying to fine more feathery and less fiery wings. I guess that's true of all of us whether we admit it or not. Only, I don't have many people to tell it to….

Scratch that. I have anyone and everyone to tell it to. Merely no desire.

I am alone, but I am not lonely. I wish the Titans would realize that. I wish they would leave me alone.

Alone…..

I feel the City stretching tall and concrete above me.

Steel bones shivering in the cold night air.

The twilight of stars echoing down to sigh off my shoulders.

The warm bodies ant-squirming a hurricane invisibly around me.

Distant glittering lights and lingering laughter.

Car horns and airplane buzzes growing distant.

The water lapping all around us.

The living, throbbing, shaking world.

And I shivering in the center of it.

I feel nude. Vulnerable. Like a scurrying little thing to be crushed, skinless. Something with juices inside, curdling to the surface. If water was to be poured one me, it's seep straight through. Perhaps I could walk through walls. Perhaps I could sink into the center of the earth if I exhale….

I am so very alone, but why should I complain?

I feel special here. I'm like the Titan who never was. The shadowed, alternative identity to what the media broadcasts and the papers print and the world advertises as 'Raven'.

I know that I am very precious and that I am significant because…

Even though nobody sees me (and nobody is looking) I am quite magnificently more aware of the crumbling, cold culture around me and my imperviousness to it because nobody and nothing knows or feels or tastes the nature of what lies in between my two ears but me.

And there's something to be cherished in a world that understands you when it's exactly what you want. And this peace, this solace, this solitary drifting…

It's exactly what I want.

The blue emptiness of it all. It does not hurt me. It fills me. It confines the universe to my head and arms and chest and back and legs and feet. My toes and my fingers go numb and tingle with the sensation of existing. And when I die, I won't be sad. I will be emptied and all I will have to do is sigh a relaxing sigh and the shell of what is left of me will happily fold away and disappear in some dark, dark drawer.

Accomplish is simply what you get from living. I have no intention of fighting for some last minute goal before I perish. Why struggle for something that you already have? Why sob and cry over something that is just as lost to you as your sobs and cries?

I don't understand the world, and yet I understand the world. Paradoxes run hand in hand with the acceptance of one's own breath. It's not something to have a headache over. Maybe something to pinch oneself for. But always something to be grateful for, in however subtle way an individual chooses.

I take a deep breath.

I have reached the park.

Lonely lampposts and cold fountains dot the gray-green landscape.

The twilight fades for a moment as I bathe in the cold, silver mist.

I stroll forward, down paths.

Eyeing the grainy gravel roads beneath me.

Why did Starfire come to this planet to begin with?

I take a deep breath.

I linger beside a bench.

Arms folded.

Blue body draped by falling, pale light.

Starfire doesn't belong on this planet. I don't mean that in a hateful, spiteful way. But—quite simply—she is of a completely different ilk. Seeing her next to Beast Boy or Cyborg or Raven is like a paradox to me. How can someone that innocent, that kindly, that devoted to universal platitudes of righteousness manage to survive on this Earth for so long?

I suppose that is lucky—in a sense—that Starfire is living in the protective, powerful relation of the Titans. I feel sick thinking of her in that fashion. Guilty, even. Starfire might not think much of it herself, but I know that I would despise it if everyone I knew took me for a girl who needed protection. To be placed on a pedestal. Cyborg does that a little bit to me, but I don't mind. Because he's Cyborg. The way I see it with Starfire, she respects protective emotions directed towards her as true camaraderie and friendship. And it is. But, I don't think she would find it demeaning at all. We all want to protect her. Almost to the point that we worry over her more than respect her. At first, it wasn't like that between her and I. I despised her about as much as I despised Beast Boy. Her joyous, loud exterior disturbed me incessantly. But over time, I realized that loudness was soft and respecting. And the joyous annoyance of her character was merely an alien girl doing her best to adapt, while at the same time not losing out on her passionate, Tamaranian side.

I respect Starfire now. I feel that my need to protect her is equal to her love for me and the rest of the Titans. I say the word 'love' lightly in Starfire's case, because it is only fitting. Tamaranians can love a whole lot easier than humans. And—as I take it—they can trust more easily too. But thankfully, Starfire and the rest of the Titans—myself included—have been together long enough for all of us to trust each other equally. And love? Well…one thing at a time. Starfire keeps her distance from me when I meditate nowadays, I guess I 'love' her for that.

I sit down on the bench.

I rest my hands on my knees.

I exhale….

Softly.

I have been unofficially 'watching' Robin since the Titans ever began. It's based on a request he gave me a long time ago. Back when we were the two to found the team. Robin felt that he was competent as a crime fighter, but he didn't yet know his integrity as a team leader. He knew he couldn't risk sharing this out loud with the Titans or else they wouldn't have confidence in him. But, he was willing to share his concern with me. Probably because from the get-go, I could very easily sense where he was coming from and just what made his emotions tick. If I tried really hard, I could even figure out his secret identity. But I had no desire to. And I still don't.

Robin was afraid. Robin still is afraid. He fears not for his life or his identity, but for the rest of the Titans. He knows that he's hardcore. And he knows that there's a monster inside of him when it comes to fighting evil. And he doesn't want that same monster being unleashed on his fellow teammates. Especially when they—like Starfire—trust him so much.

In a lot of ways, his nightmare came true when Slade took control of him. The four of us all saw that monster in him head-on. It was terrifying. But we braved it. Perhaps in an unconscious desire to face the rough waters in equal fervor as he did. To keep himself from suffering, he had to put all of his heart and soul into the act of Slade's apprentice. That's why I couldn't sense an ulterior motive in him until after Slade's probes attacked us. Robin was being hardcore about his business. He was punishing us to save us.

Afterwards, when all was said and done….When we returned to the Tower and when Robin was peeled out of his bloodied, beaten apprentice uniform….

He anguished. He really, truly did. At nights over the next week or two, I would lie restless in bed because I could sense—through the many walls and floors of the Tower—the Boy Wonder crying himself to sleep in such lonely ways that he would expertly deny the following morning. And none of the other Titans ever saw it. I never sensed that same anguish passed on to them. Starfire has even been oblivious.

Guilt is a monster in and of itself. More than Slade, it has consumed Robin and I fear….

Yes, I fear….

I fear what it might do to him in the not too distant future. I can only help that Starfire will understand Earth and _Robin_ enough by then to be a good shoulder for the Boy Wonder to lean on when all of his weaknesses catch up with his flightless figure. I intend to be far away. Because, as I see it, I'm bound to collapse much sooner than Robin. And when that happens—for the sake of the Titans and _the world_—I want to be as far away from this dimension as possible.

And perhaps soon—with this everyday practice of heroic hesitancy—I'll summon the strength necessary to perform that very migration. I just can't do it right now. It's not that I'm not ready.

My friends…..

I take a shuddering breath.

I stand up.

I move westward.

I walk through the park.

Exiting.

Flowing.

Drifting across the City.

Sometimes I think I'm walking when really I'm hovering. It's a trait that Cyborg noticed first. He's observant for things like that. And he seems to have quite the robot eye for….._feminine_ qualities in the nuances of everyday happenstance.

Sometimes I think that Cyborg has a crush on me. Then I remind myself that he's simply very friendly. And like every other boy his age who possesses more muscle than metal, he's hormone driven and testosterone induced. The fights he has had with Robin on occasion makes my head throb. But the team would be nothing without him. And I don't mean to refer strictly to the Titans' Tower which his family—indirectly or not—has supplied us with, but his personality and stature as a whole. Cyborg is a lot more mature than most of us tend to think on a regular basis. He's older than the rest of us. A lot more 'grown up'. He has his many moments of restraint as well as impulse.

On a whole, Cyborg is a well-rounded adult. And I think the worst thing he could ever do is doubt his potential. As empathic as I am, I'll never truly understand what it is about him that makes him so extremely self-conscious about his robotic parts. I think Cyborg is under the assumption that he has lost a huge part of him that shall never be reclaimed. That disturbs me. At the same time, it makes me proud of him. Because he deals with these issues of his in an open fashion, not quite as closed up and dangerously reclusive as Robin. Cyborg isn't afraid to open up on numerous occasions. The only shields he has are the typical 'macho' shields of masculine buildup. He doesn't have the psychological iron fence surrounding him like Robin does.

I think Cyborg—more than the rest of us—would make a good family man (or woman in my and Starfire's case). He's the perfect big brother. He knows how to lifts spirits and to correct people out of line. He's smart, people-friendly, and devoted in all energy to life as a whole. There is so much respect for goodness, justice, and prosperity within his circuitry-interrupted soul. It is a joy almost equal that to Starfire, all outer exaggerations brushed aside of course. I'm sure that someday, he'll make a woman very, very happy.

If only he gave himself more credit….

I find myself walking through suburbs. Cookie-Cutter houses on winding, circular streets. The occasional streetlamp reflecting off the sleepy-eyed glass of the still buildings' windows. Transformers, dog houses, abandoned tricycles on the sidewalk. Somewhere overhead, the moon giggles before evaporating to gray glaze behind a cloud or two.

A cold wind.

I take a deep breath.

I walk/drift forward.

I pull the hood of my blue robe back over my head.

Gently…..

It has greatly surprised me just how low the self-esteem of heroes are. Both young and old.

I met Superman once. Batgirl. The Flash…..

Everyone of them has a dark, stone-hard pit of guilt, shame, and fear boiled up in their centers. They could really use some meditation. But I doubt even that would help. Pain is indicative of a superheroic life. I'm not a sadist, I just simply believe that fact.

The Titans are no less affected. Cyborg has his circuitry. Robin his hardcore ego. Starfire her adaptation.

And Beast Boy is the greatest epitome of low-self-esteem I've ever seen. His thoughts are practical fireworks in both the daytime and the nighttime. He thinks constantly about parents that he no longer knows nor tries to talk about. He hates himself. Secretly. Softly. Arsenic tears in the shower stall while the water's running. Untold sighs in the backseat of the T-Car. Beast Boy is sad. Very sad.

Everybody knows it. But nobody knows it. For we deal with the jester. The green harlequin of animalia. The changeling is as rarely without a smile as he is rarely in one place. He moves around. He animates himself. It's like all the metabolism that manages his ungodly metamorphing needs an outlet through kinetic energy. It annoys us to death. It makes us want to wring his little green neck. And at the same time, it makes us happy for life.

Beast Boy is absurd. And in his absurdity, he reminds us all of the lovingly stupid people we are risking our necks for each and every day. Without Beast Boy on the team, there'd be no excuse four our incessant 'meatball' crime fighting. I must admit, he does put some fun into the near-death experiences with fiends of all shapes and sizes. At the same time, he can be a terrible thorn in the side.

But for all the reasons that he ticks us off, we similarly don't ever want him to leave. Myself included. It's amazing, but I actually have gotten used to him. And to think of Beast Boy leaving the team—it would devastate me. Simply because that would be a defeat in my eyes of all that we've fought for. The only reason Beast Boy would leave the team would be if he horribly, terribly lost the last shred of conceivable faith in himself. And the only way that would happen—I imagine—would be for one of us to die.

And I don't…..want that.

It has never been my place to try and alter the way my teammates are. I have no problems with it myself. I would be glad for Beast Boy to find other ways to address his secret hurts than by joking all the time. And I would quietly revel in Cyborg losing some of his insecurity…and Robin lightening up….and Starfire showing some righteous anger for once.

But is not my place.

The Titans don't know it….

They don't know it all…..but….

I am their biggest burden.

And I am the biggest burden that they will ever have. I will not….cannot….burden them further in any fashion whatsoever. I respect them too much. After working alongside them for so long, there is nothing I can do but put them at the forefront of my concerns. And the best way that I can help them, is to not try and help them. For to do that would for me to get closer to them. And I've gotten close enough to my teammates as I can ever possibly allow. Perhaps—even—too close.

I must keep my distance from now on. I must meditate in this new fashion. I must reorganize myself, seek solitude, and within that shadowed loneliness remember who I am and once again touch the pale face on the other side of the glass. This hapless survivor from Azarath. A demon girl that's all by herself in the beginning and—inevitably—in the end.

The middle is irrelevant.

The houses are replaced by warehouses on either side of me. Industrial complexes. The darker…grimier of buildings.

Any Titan will confess that I am quite the fan of dark, grimy things.

They might also—hopefully—admit that I am a very practical human being.

I like darkness, but I'm not stupid.

I turn in my tracks, and avoid the seedy part of Town.

I seem to be gliding now. As if the City is an ice sculpture melting beneath me. Sometimes when I lean back—walking or sitting down—I roll my eyes into the back of my head and suddenly the universe is a small place in the Jesus points of my wrists. I've often wondered what the vibration was in the beginning of time that determined even today the pulse of my heart. Time is an illusion to biological engines called human beings and the things that—literally—make them 'tick'.

But if time is truly a crime, why has life organized itself around his twisting finger? Is Nature as lazy and easy-sliding like the rest of us? The cosmos are dwindling into cold, cold darkness at an irresistible rate. Certainly the physicality of all things existing senses this. This transferal from microcosm to macrocosm, combined with the diminishing of energy.

In a lot of ways, we are the tools of eternity. We are the sinking lure that the universe tosses into the dark waters to test if fate is biting or not. I often see everything as a giant, omnipresent matriarch. Mother nature's periods are coming to a close. A celestial barrenness whispers prophecies to consume us all in oblivion. The doom and gloom is but tomorrow's reality—perceptually speaking of course—and maybe we were birthed to taste this oblivion one by one in our separate, perishing ways to that the accumulated ashes of our mortal hilarity would amount to a fortune telling potion?

People are far too quick and impulsive to rule out the impact of a divine Creator upon this world. I know that death is permanent, and existence is short. But heaven and hell—absent from reality—do not necessarily detract from the possible potential of an omnipotent originator behind everything. I figure that if God exists, he is far crueler and far more sadistic a god than ever the generations of pessimistic monotheists could assume. And what god best serves his own creation through a shroud ambiguity as his universal, grand narrative? We are indeed to 'fear God', for he imposes upon us—if he does indeed exist—a methodology under which the very things natural human beings are made to rely on—the physical senses—are but comical pranks waved before our bleary eyes.

I would serve that God if I had no choice. But I am convinced that—indeed—I have a choice. I was raised to respect all life. And if all life came from a Creator, then who am I to hate Her or Him? It happens that I also respect death. And for that, I cannot choose to follow God. For when it comes to death, every god I've ever been taught of has been nothing but a mountainous hypocrite.

I suppose it all bleeds from heaven to earth. The human race is a hypocritical accident. But every now and then, there are a few accidents that would inexplicably desire joy and prosperity for all the silly siblings stumbling around them. I respect those more than any deity that does or does not exist invisibly beyond my senses. Why does it feel that the second beloved commandment of Jesus is ironically the best and most practical of all for humans to follow? Those who follow god establish doctrinal friction. And who on this globe can argue—in spite of everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen to our fellow man—that the only thing that religion succinctly manages to do is kill ourselves?

To love your fellow neighbor as you love yourself, that fills me with a lingering hope for humanity. Christ may not have been quite the madman that he came off as. Mohammed wasn't entirely a misogynist ignoramus. And Buddha wasn't necessarily self-centered. I dream of the day when everyone wakes up to the one thing that makes the Vedic Faiths promising in my eyes: the openness to all manners of yoga in approaching the mysterious essence that is our Origin, be it God or not or Purpose or not or the Golden Mean or not.

But we are far too cursed by the superficial soup that sloshes and spirals at the end of our fingertips. Life is like breathing underwater. For seventy-odd average years, a human being doesn't realize that he's drowning until he comes up to the obsidian surface. And maybe there and only there—on the deathbed with nothing but the flittering firefly warmth of life dancing its whining way out the window and into the night—we all realize how pathetically absurd it is to spend all our years away flying airplanes and cars into each other's faces. And where will all our trophies go? The silver and the gold? The bank deposits, the autographed photographs, the lockerroom inches to invisible phalluses bragged about by drones the world-over or the number of screaming little cherubs that we manage to squeeze out of our uteruses and fight to regain our patriarchally-demanded figures afterwards?

Somewhere in some place of time, some bastard was born out of an angry thought, and he or she rose to power to slay the huge, life-giving beast called 'Sensibility'. And all attempts to democratize nature and sub-nature since has been pies half-baked by parachuting dreams in the sky. Sometimes I am very much tempted to believe in cruel, self-centered deities being spawned by the scrotal blood of castrated earth-spirits.

But then again….the Titans too were overthrowned. And their nephew went on to rape dozens of women as oxen, swans, coins, and various other perverted fetishes of the bored Aegeans.

It goes without saying. The world was a lot crazier place before Poe arrived.

Right now… the night is cool. My senses take over, and I am once again encapsulated in the capsule called my body. A very soft and feminine place, or so I am told. I don't try to come across as coy or egocentric, but if someone were to ask me how I keep myself so 'pretty' and 'graceful', I honestly answer them that I have no clue. And I don't try to be beautiful. Honestly, I don't. I think some things come natural with being a magician. I might be beautiful on the outside, but on the inside I see the demon in waiting. And I know that I am bitter. I am so very bitter. My friends need to taste of it everyday. They're my fellow Titans, and what do they care if I am or am not necessarily 'pretty'? It's a second thought to them now. If not a third thought. It could have been different had _**I been** _different from the get-go. But it's too late for me to change. And it's even later for me to care.

And yet I sense the petiteness of my frame. The utterly ridiculous smallness and frailty of what I am and what I grew up to be. And I wonder—perhaps for the first time—perhaps for the millionth time….

Why am I not older?

How could I possibly be this young?

Why is it that I can feel the raping fingers of Trigon inch towards my inner psyche, and yet I can't reach the top of my bookshelf in my room?

I very well know the answer to this.

I know that there is an explanation.

A reality.

Something cold and naked and shivering.

Mud-breathed.

Grimey and disgusting, like the buildings I turned away from.

It's a part of me, this ugly duckling limb. I can't saw it off for the life of me. There's no silver bullet for me to bite onto. No purple heart to be won. I am alone in this cyclone. So very alone.

I feel moisture in the air.

Water lapping on either side of me.

And I look up.

And I know…

I have come full circle.

My walk is coming to a close, and I have returned to the land ridge.

Titans' Tower stretches tall in the distance.

Its metal surface is so clean.

It's windows and shiny faces immaculate.

I could happily dive into my 'home' and drown.

And I realize…that I do just that.

Every night.

In my cold room, while yet…

The Titans are floors and walls away……..

…..I can still feel them…..

………and I feed off of them…..

I know that I already have the answer to myself.

I know that I know all that there needs to be known.

And I know….more than anything else….that they don't _know_.

And all they'll ever do is distract me.

And though I don't submerge myself with them….

Though I don't join their DVD nights or their card games or their ice cream outings or their jokes…..

I know that I need them.

I need them so….so terribly.

Because—for once in my life—I can be honest and say….

I can afford the distraction.

I can truly, truly afford the distraction.

As long as all they know is the surface of the dark sorceress that shares dinner plates and laundry duties with them.

The blue shape in the corner of blurred, heated fights against crime.

I don't try to dwell on how much they might possibly _need me._

But I need them.

And—Azar willing—they will be repaid in the long run.

And maybe my death will be a silent, gentle one.

Sucking in only my own soul and leaving them untouched.

But….

I know the truth to that too.

I walk slowly to the front doors of the Tower.

I enter in through the mammoth entrance.

The air is still cool inside, though without the breeze.

I ascend an elevator.

Leaning against the metal wall.

Hugging myself…..

The doors open.

I walk into the hallways.

And again…I think I can hear them.

Upstairs.

In the Main Room.

Perhaps a movie.

Perhaps a game.

Perhaps laughing and talking loudly just for the sake of doing so.

Life……………………………………………………………………..

…..

I walk to my room.

I enter the soft, cold-blue domain.

A silent, soothing shower….

I emerge and clothe for the night.

A modest night gown.

And after straightening my hair, I light a few candles.

I snuggle up with a blanket in a big reading chair besides the stretch of windows.

Looking out onto the gray City where I spent the last two and a half hours traversing.

I take a deep breath.

I manage a slight smile….

And open a book.

In my element.

_Franz Kafka._

You know………

My life would be a whole lot more interesting if I woke up one day as a bug……


	31. Fate

﻿

_**FLASH!**_

I snarl and fling a wave of red energy at Nightwing.

Nightwing holds his breath and dives across the ruins of Titan's Tower. He jumps up to his feet and raises his bo-staff.

**"Heh heh heh…..,"** I grin with fanged teeth. Four red eyes pulse across my brow as I flex my wrists and shoot another burst of crimson towards the Titans' Leader. "**RAAAUGH!"**

Nightwing backflips from the blasts and knocks away all residual energy with his twirling staff. He comes down and perches on a piece of smoking rubble. He pants, sweating all over. The red-colored sky and smoking City burns behind his dark figure.

"Trigon!" Nightwing shouts. "Let go of Raven already!"

**"Foolish mortal…..,"** I stomp towards him. Fiercely thorned legs move lithely around a tattered, crimson gown colored with skull-like patterns. Red clouds flap away in the shape of cawing, four-eyed birds and melt into the skyline. **"I **_**AM**_** Raven! Heh heh heh heh!"**

"That's not true!" Nightwing shudders, gripping his weapon tighter. "You're using her! You've been using her all this time! Well I'm going to chase you out, Trigon!" Nightwing growls and twirls his staff. _Th-Th-Thwish!_ "If it's the last thing I do!"

**"That….can be arrrrranged….,"** I grin again. My teeth glisten and my long, jagged fingernails thirst for the vigilante's fragile neck.

I play with him.

"**I've waited a long time for this…..Nightwing….."**

"Tell me what you've done to Beast Boy and Starfire!"

**"Pleeeeease, Nightwing….,**" I lean my glowing head to the side and smile. **"You are far too optimistic for your own, futile good. Heh heh heh……what makes you think that there is any piece of Beast Boy left to find?"**

Nightwing's jaw dropped. "Y-You wouldn't…"

I hiss and stretch an arm out. **"Watch me do it again!"**

_**FL-FLASH!**_

Nightwing leaps over the fiery discharge. He runs towards me. He hops over rubble and pieces of the smoldering Tower and eventually dodges two more fiery chunks of my attack before sailing at me with a heavy swing of his staff. "RAAAAUGH!"

_**GRIP!**_ I clutch him around the waist. I dig my nails into him, grinning.

"AAA-AAA-AAAUGH!" Nightwing twitches in my grasp.

I snarl and fling him against a metal pylon.

_SWOOOSH-SMACK!_

He falls to the ground and quivers all over. Coughing up blood.

I stomp towards him.

I billow fire out of my upper limbs and lean over, leering.

"**What's wrong, Nightwing? Don't tell me you didn't have ample enough warrrrning? Heh heh heh heh. Slade was right. It's 'always the quiet ones'. I'm tired of being a closed door to endless…boundless POWER, Nightwing. All my father did was open my eyes. This world is mine for the taking. And you're in my way……"**

"Y-Your father….," Nightwing wheezes, fighting to stand up. "….is a demon. You're Raven underneath that fiery exterior. Reach into yourself! You are the child of Azarath! SAVE yourself, Raven! Win back what your father stole from you! Don't make me h-hurt you…"

"**You jest. Your reign over this world has ended, mortal. The Fated Child of Trigon shall now operate this puny satellite called 'Earth'."**

Nightwing stood up, frowning. "Then if there's nothing that can be done for Raven…there's no holding me back…."

**"Is that so?"** I grin. My four red eyes narrow. **"Oh Nightwiiiiiiing….."**__

"……?" he raises an eyebrow. "What?"

I lick my fanged teeth and grin. **"Starfire tasted ssssssucculentttttt….."**

"……," Nightwing's eyemask widens.

**"Heh heh heh heh heh……"**

Nightwing shakes all over.

"**HAH HAH HAH HAH!**"

"Nnnngrraaaugh!" Nightwing charges at me, his bo-staff swung high. "DAMN YOUUUUU!"

"**HAAAH!"**

_SWOOOOSH-**SLICE!**_

Nightwing gasps. He quivers, his body skewered by the claws of my left hand. Tears fall and join the blood gurgling from his mouth as I lift him effortlessly up to my fanged face.

"**Why…….don't you join herrrr……?"**

"Snkkt…n-no….Raven….p-please….."

"**Mmmmm……,"** and my four optics roll back as I open my demon jaws up, and close them around Nightwing's jugular.

_**CLAMP!**_


	32. Hair

﻿

"Cyborg's shutting down early tonight," I drone as I drift through the Tower hallways with Starfire. "He says that the intergalactic trip really took a lot out of him. I think it's just an excuse for him to dream about piloting that ship again."

"Y-Yes…," Starfire solemnly nods her head. Her eyes are fixed forward. "Perhaps."

"…….and….Beast Boy and Robin are actually sparring for once. Beast Boy thinks that he's getting better at his fighting techniques, so he was brave enough to challenge Robin. I suspect that I'll be needed in the infirmary this afternoon to aid a bruised, squirming elf."

"I hope Beast Boy will not be too damaged…," she breathily blurted.

"………..and……..and that's about it," I utter. I gaze down below our feet. "Nothing exciting this evening. Unless a bank robbery randomly happens."

"I will be ready for anything. But right now—like I previously stated—I am desiring to retire to my room."

I nod. "Rest is good, Starfire. I find sleeping to be like….a second life sometimes."

"Okay, I suppose that made no sense."

I know that Starfire is trying to smile. I can sense it, like a knife piercing through the thick walls of an iceberg. I feel guilty from the fleeting, metallic kiss of it….and then it's gone.

We reach Starfire's bedroom.

She presses a panel and opens the door.

_Schwissh!_

She pauses before the entrance to her pink domain.

"………" She turns towards me. Her eyes lifelessly calm. "Raven…."

"Yes, Starfire?"

"……..why have you insisted on escorting me to my room?"

"Friend, is there something you desire to tell me?"

I glance aside. A breath. I lower my hood and look somewhat _truer_ than the second previous. "I have sensed a lot coming from you as we returned home. And…..there has been a lot of emotions surging inside of you, Starfire."

"Yes….," she nods and softly glances away. "That is true…."

"A great deal of those emotions…," I bite my lip. "….a-are ones I have not felt in you as long as we've known each other."

"There are things that happened recently that has never shown itself to the light of my friends' vision."

I nod. "I suppose. But….what I guess I'm trying to say is….," I look towards her and nervously…guiltily brush the stubborn strand of blue hair aside as I speak: "I felt those emotions only recently. And before that…I did not sense anything at all. And that is….that is pure ignorance on my part, Starfire. I never imagined myself capable of such blindness…"

She smiles weakly. Again, the painful, touch of a knife. "What good would it have done to witness such surging passions inside of me earlier, Raven?"

My violet eyes thin. "_Because¸_ Starfire, Val-Yor was hurting you. Val-Yor was hurting you the whole time and none of us were doing anything to protect you. **I** wasn't doing anything to protect you."

"Raven….to protect me from Val-Yor's hateful attitude is to attempt protecting me and all my people from the rest of the universe," Starfire says. She gently rests a hand on my shoulder, and I do not fight it. "My people are thusly regarded throughout most of the neighboring solar systems. But please do not think of it as a cruel fate. The Vegans are known for their intersocial friction. Tamaranians—I dare say—try to be the cheeriest, and sometimes it hurts."

"Sometimes or a lot of the times?"

"Please, Raven…," Starfire sighs. She lowers her eyes and holds her hands together as she gazes blindly towards the floor. "You need not anguish over me. I have experienced such treatment before. Only….n-not in the presence of you, my friends…."

Silence.

I shift in place and glance down too. I murmur: "People in Town call me 'Witch'."

Starfire looks up, her lips pursing. "Raven?"

"Just last week, it happened for the umpteenth time this year," I utter. "It was at the burning building. The very family I was hoisting out of their crumbling apartment was yelling at me. Calling me 'witch' and 'sorceress' and 'satan's child'. I think they were afraid of me. But sometimes—when we're all out going to pizza—I can hear it, Starfire. Across the tables. On the sidewalks. People call me names…."

"Oh no! Most assuredly terrible!" Starfire rushes over and hugs me. "Friend! Why did you not tell me of this before?"

I gently break our embrace and look up softly in her green eyes. I say: "Because I take it upon myself—as a Titan, a human, and a delegate from Azar—not to be angry and become that which they label me. And that means…ignoring what they say to the best of my ability. Because of that…I have never told you or the other Titans. I do not want it to be a bigger deal than it could be."

"It is a grand 'deal'," Starfire frowned. Her fists clenched and her green eyes burned in a rising intensity. "I shall protest! I shall entreat the Terran mayor of this City himself to intercede on your behalf! To be insulted by the very people you protect…."

"Starfire…."

"How _preposterous!"_

"Starfire!"

"…..….y-yes, Raven?"

I look at her, my head leaning to the side. "NOW do you know why I 'escorted' you to your room?"

"……………….," Starfire exhales and her body relaxes.

I smile ever so slightly. "When you hurt….and when you hurt all by yourself, it _hurts me_, Starfire. And that's not just speaking as an empath." I gulp. I whisperingly admit: "But a friend….."

"…………," Starfire stares at me in wonder. "Is this not the pretty young girl who keeps to herself, hides in her room, and refuses to do the 'hanging out' with friends?"

I fold my arms in a pout and glare at the walls. "Don't rub it in…."

But Starfire is smiling. And tears are gently running down her cheeks. "Oh Raven….," she engulfs me in a tender hug. I don't fight that either. "The reason why Val-Yor has not devastated me today is because I know…I know from such wonderful friends like you and the others, that I truly am worthwhile…."

I gently squeeze her shoulders and speak against her: "You are always worthwhile, Starfire. Don't ever doubt that…."

She lets out a shuddering breath and steps back. Hugging herself. Staring wetly at the floor. "……………."

I break the silence. "Were you wanting to sleep, now?"

"I…..I suppose…..," she bites her lip. "B-But……"

"Hmm?"

She looks up at me. A nervous smile. "Before I do……w-would you like to do the 'braiding maneuvers of the hair'? It is most…..assisting in comfortable slumber."

"………..," my lips curve. "For you, Stafire, anytime…."

"Heeee….I shall get the ribbons…."

"Dear Azar. Not the _ribbons_," I murmur.

"Huh?"

"Ahem…'ribbon' away, Star."

"Hehehe…..you are always best at tending to my hair, Raven. What is your secret?"

"No secret. You just have good hair," I shrug as I follow her into her room. "It must be a Tamaranian thing."

"Hehehe! Most assuredly!"

"There's one thing Val-Yor can't deny about your people. You have superior _hair._"

"What is there for Val-Yor to hypothesize? He is the bald!"

"Heheheh…."

"Hehehehe!"

_Schwisssh!_


	33. Cool

﻿

I went through the first four months of being a Teen Titan without touching a single one of my teammates.

I was so intent on maintaing my distance and keeping myself apart from the physical camaraderie of my peers that I actually avoided any contact whatsoever.

I wasn't exactly _proud_ of such a feat. But rather, I was content with it. And being content meant being relaxed. And being relaxed meant meditating. And meditating meant calmness and gentleness and….

Soundness of mind.

As it turns out, there is always a lot that I must sacrifice when working with a team. And it doesn't necessarily mean just sacrificing my own interests, but also giving myself a chance to grow and mature. Because—yes—even I myself need to do that from time to time, despite how much I heavily insist on being a rung higher on the intelligence ladder when compared to…..let's say…..Terra and Beast Boy.

Arrogance aside, I've been discovered for a new purpose. Well—no—it's not exactly a _new_ purpose. I've always had the ability to 'heal' physical injuries. I was just never proficient at it until now. As of these days in Titan training, whenever we go into battle and a few of us end up bruised up….it's Raven to the rescue as the local, nomadic medic.

Long story short, I'm having to touch my friends now. ALL. THE. TIME.

When Starfire dislocated her shoulder, my hands gently pressed her forearm and reconnected the joints.

When Terra received a bad cut across her ribs, there my hands went.

Beast Boy's concussion….even Cyborg's burn marks.

I've been through a workout. And my hands—normally gloved and reserved to themselves—have practically memorized the contours of every hero I work with.

It takes a lot of energy out of me. Because of such, I have been withdrawing to the shadows of major fights in the field. Thankfully, Terra has taken the brunt of my telekinetic offensive. The team relies on her for the magical ballistics, whereas I give her and the others levitating support and then swoop in for the medical rescues.

I am taken back—though not heavily surprised—by how warm those around me feel. Starfire is a burning cauldron from all the starbolts that are forged within her.

Terra is as hot as the churning, molten earth she conjures up.

Even Cyborg—that digital cold soul—is as bloody and heated as any other human being.

Sometimes I find myself distracted by how…._real_ everyone feels. And it gets in the way of my mending them. I don't feel bad about it, I just keep trying until they're good enough to jump on their feet and bash crime's face in again.

Except for Robin.

He never needs healing.

And I can't honestly figure out if it's because he egotistically refuses treatment….

Or if he really, truly is so good a fighter that he never gets hurt.

But of course I know the answer to that.

But still, I've never had to heal him…..

……until now.

We all have just gotten back from defeating Mumbo Jumbo.

Everyone else had remarkably escaped unscratched. But Robin…

Robin had been struck from the falling lamp piece of a streetlight. He's unconscious from a concussion, and a nasty bruise has formed over his head.

It's been a while since the Boy Wonder fell victim to injury among the whole lot of us. And to be honest—none of the Titans seem to know what to do.

None except for me, that is. For long ago—when Robin and I formed the team—he made a special request of me. He asked that—if ever he suffer something as paralyzing as this injury now plaguing him, he wished for me to be the one and _only one_ to take care of him. The others are quite obviously confused by Robin's selectivism in such a rule. But I don't try to explain it to them.

Quite simply, Robin doesn't want anyone taking his mask off while he's unconscious. And as it stands—after nearly two years of serving together as a large group on this team—the only person the Boy Wonder trusts for such emergency care is me.

I would not unmask the Boy Wonder for anything.

Nor do I ever care to….

I levitate Robin through the hallways of the Tower. I bring him to his room. I lay him gently on his bed and examine the nasty bruise on his forehead. A bruise that is turning nastier.

I take a deep breath, chant a few Azarathian tomes, and slip off a glove. I then do what I haven't done for as long as I can remember…

I touch Robin's skin.

And when I do so, I am surprised. So surprised…it actually delays my healing of his head injuries.

_Robin's skin is cool to the touch._

I am amazed that he is alive, in fact……

I soon shake that thought off. It's foolish to assume from one touch that Robin is anything but an average living creature. Robin And I'm touching his forehead only to heal him. Not to do anything else.

The process takes the better part of two and a half minutes. The bruise fades away from his skin. The Boy Wonder—previously stock still and dead silent—begins to stir and breathe gentlier in an unconscious haze…

I gently stretch a woolen blanket over him for some subconscious reason…

And leave the room.

I slip my glove back on as I trek on through the Tower…but I linger in doing so.

For the ice of Robin's skin still lingers there. Haunting. Puzzling….

As I enter my room, I remember something Beast Boy once said when he copped a feel of my blue locks of hair. 'It's so cool to the touch, Cyborg! I swear….she's got icy silk for hair! I never knew girls' hair could feel like that….'

And as I prepare for an evening nap, the coolness of the bedsheets engulf me and I shudder with the sudden remembrance of Robin's bruises and the resounding _THWACK!_ of the streetlight's lamp hitting his skull and how all of us were chilled icily to the bone from the disturbing sensation.

And as I drift away—or at least try to—that iciness sinks into my heart and I feel a pain and a gnotting ache throbbing deep inside of me. Begging to be healed.

But the medic in me holds her position. I don't dare hug myself and summon the healing.

'_Someday, all skin will only melt from the touch of those hands, daughter,'_ some imaginary voice echoes against my bed chambers.

I turn over and allow myself to be swallowed by drowsy oblivion before I even begin to shiver….


	34. Tyi

﻿

"Where's Starfire?" Terra asks. She glances across the table of the balcony pizza parlor with blinking, blue eyes. "She's not usually this late!"

"She said she had a few things to take care of," Robin shrugged while holding the menu. His lips curved somewhat. "You know how she's been lately. Suddenly there are tons of 'chores' for her to do all over the Tower!"

"Sounds like Tamaranians have mid-life crises a bit early," Cyborg muses.

"Naaah…," Beast Boy winks and folds his arms. "She's just gone obsessed over being Terra's nanny since she got here."

"B.B.!" Terra frowns and punches his shoulder.

_Whap!_

"Ow!"

"That's not true! She is _so_ **not** my nanny!"

"Hehehehe…face it! She adores you!"

"She does not!"

"She loves cooking for you and cleaning your room and stuff! Big sister complex or something!"

Terra folds her arms, blushes, and murmurs to Robin with a straightening her golden bangs. "C-Can we…uhm….order now?"

"Depends. Are we all ready?"

"Yo, I am."

"Same here, dude."

"Yeah, I guess so…"

Robin looks over. "Raven? How about you?"

"Just tea…thanks…," I murmur. I flip the page of a book.

"Come on, Rae!" Beast Boy waves. Grinning. "We're all here for pizza out on the town! That means cheese and sauce and parmesan and—"

"Just….**tea**…._thank you….._," I hiss. Miniature puffs of flame flicker in my violet eyes.

"Erhm….."

Terra clears her throat. "I think we're ready."

"All right then," Robin gathers the menus.

Cyborg points: "Wait a minute. What about Starfire?"

"Oh….I know what she wants," Robin smirks and raises a finger. He says in a slightly dramatic, high voice: "'I shall endeavor to consume the cyclical mustard on cheese with dead fish, please!'"

"Hehehehehe!" Beast Boy all but falls out of his chair.

"Wow! That was awesome!" Terra beams.

Robin smirks somewhat. "Thank you….thank you very much…" He shuffles the menus. "I think she'd get a kick out of it too…ahem…n-no hard feelings."

Cyborg smirks slyly. "You know what they say about guys who memorize the menu choices of their female frie—"

"Thank you, Cyborg….," Robin grumbles.

"…………..and you know what they say about lonely guys who lovingly impersonate members of the opposite s—"

"Shut up, Cyborg."

"Yes suh! Right away suh! Don't be complainin' now, ya hear? Storm's a'comin, betta get da cows in! Lands o'Goshen!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Oh my god, Cyborg….you did not just do that!"

"That's so…..holy crap, that's wrong…."

Robin looks pale.

Cyborg sits back, grins and proudly rests his arms behind his neck. "I've been waiting to do that for a long time…."

"Yeah….uhm…..," Robin clears his throat.

"Sheesh! Calm down, man! It was only a joke!"

"You sure? I wasn't trying to offend y—"

"Pfft. You know what? Forget it. God….what's worse than a stiff white dude?"

"Don't ask me," Beast Boy winks. "I'm green."

Terra nudges him. "Cop out."

"Ehhh….heheheh…."

"Say…," Cyborg scratches the human part of his skull and points across the pizza parlor balcony. "What are they yapping about?"

Terra turns to look. "Huh?"

"Better yet…," Cyborg smirks. "What are they yapping _**in**_?"

Even I curiously glance up from my book. I crane an ear. A group of Europeanish youngsters—all boys—are gathered around a table with pizza. They're speaking to each other quickly in a foreign-foreign dialect and laughing. Being young….

"Sounds……Chinese?"

"Pfft….yeah…sure, B.B."

"Canadian then?"

"Canada doesn't have a language….just beavers."

"Oh! Duh!" Beast Boy smiles proudly and winks at Cyborg and the others. "It's Russian."

"Russian?" Cyborg raises an eyebrow.

Robin smirks. "How do you deduce that, Beast Boy?"

"They keep saying the word 'tyi'."

"'Tyi'?"

"Russian for 'you'. Simple enough."

"You figured it out all from that….?"

"Yeah. I've heard Russian before."

"No you haven't…."

"Nuts to you, ya oversized garbage disposal! I've traveled around the world before, remember?"

"Ah right. With your parents."

"YES….with _my parents._ We were in Moscow for about a week."

"Wow! Did you take pictures?"

"Uhm…I-I was two…."

"You don't know a thing of what you're talking about…."

"I do too! THERE! You hear that? They just said 'dosvidan'ya'!"

"What the Hell does that mean?"

"Duh! It means 'Hello'!…………….or maybe 'rabbit'…..Uhmm…."

Terra's chuckling endlessly by this point.

Robing smirks curiously at her. "Terra? You okay?"

She takes a breath between giggles and manages: "Y-You boys know n-nothing about Russian…."

"And just how would you kno—" Beast Boy begins.

Terra merely stares at him.

He gets a good long at her face. Her skin. Her hair. Her eyes.

"Oh….." He blushes.

"Hehehehe…," she leans in and hugs him. "You're so stupid…it's cute."

"Uhm…..y-you're welcome?" he simpers.

"Where _is_ that waitress?" Robin murmurs.

"Relax, Robin. You'll be able to give her your girlfriend's order soon enough."

Robin glares. "Now that has got to—"

"Psst…Raven!" Terra hisses.

"……..," I look up from my book. I am glaring. "………….._**What**_?"

She winks and points at the 'Russian' table. "One of the guys have been stealing glances at you the whole time."

"…………….," I blink. "………………." I return to my book. "Whatever."

"Hehehehehe…come on, Raven? Aren't you even gonna look?"

"No."

"He's really cute! Bet he has a sexy accent too."

"Hey…she's right….," Cyborg murmurs. Grinning. "He's checking you out, girl!"

My face tenses and my violet eyes burn the pages I'm scanning. "It….doesn't….matter….to me…."

"Sure it does! Look!" Beast Boy points. "Your face is getting red!"

"Uhm….," Robin smiles nervously. "I think that's because she's getting mad, Beast Boy."

"Boy have I heard that excuse before…"

"It's not an excuse…," I bitterly hiss. "Now will you please, leave me al—"

_SWOOOSH!_ Starfire touches down, out of breath. "Sorry! Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry! Most extreme apologetics omega! I was busily employed in finishing the laundry that I neglected last night because I was preoccupied with the surfing of the 'enter the nut' to find Terra some new furniture for her room and—"

"Starfire…," Robin gestures.

"---declare my sincerest regret for not arriving here sooner to join all of you in the consumption of the cheese and mustard wheels of Italia and—"

"Star!" Robin gently takes her hand and pulls her down to a chair. "It's okay…we're about to order. Keep it cool."

"…….," Starfire blinks. "But…I am sufficiently content with my temperature, Robin…"

Cyborg groans. "Oh jeez…there's a new one."

Beast Boy chuckles.

Terra smiles. "Wow…I swear. She's just so…."

"Hmmm?" Starfire looks over.

"You're cute, Starfire. You know that?"

"Oh….but you jest," she turns red.

"I'd say she's right on the money," Robin adds.

"What is that?"

"………erhm….."

"Waitress is coming!

"The waitress is coming! Yes…uhm…ordering time!"

"Terra is fixated on the economical tender in what way, Robin?"

"Ahem…._I-I'll tell you later……."_

"Heeeeee….!"

"……………" All this time, I've slowly started to glance back over at the 'Russian' table. And indeed, there is someone stealing glances at me. And I cannot for the life of me understand why. Not just in his case, but in that of all others. Boys steal glances at me. Maybe while I'm saving them from dangerous criminals. Maybe when the Titans and I are just walking through the streets of the City. It happens. And I don't ask for it too. I don't _try_ to make myself look pretty. I'm not trying to gloat or be egotistical, but extreme amounts of makeup and hair-styling isn't just my thing. I believe in beauty…but I also happen to believe in practicality. And I wonder what it is that inspires random strangers like these to glance at me. And—as my empathy is now letting me know—they do indeed experience infatuations with me. And I wonder why.

But not for long do I wonder. For it all comes slamming back to me so heavily that I remember why I brought a book to the 'pizza outing' to begin with. I only want to distract myself. From my friends—yes. But from those who don't know me half as well as my friends _don't know me_ too.

I wonder if he knows that there's a demon inside of me. I wonder if he would care if or when I turned on him and his friends and his family and his civilization and his planet and his whole, doomed dimension?

I wonder if beauty is skin deep…but at the same time, hearts long for the fumes of the air when it's broken by a body and nothing thicker…

"_Psst….Raven…gonna go talk to him?"_ Terra winks.

I look at her.

_Does she know that I glanced back at him? I thought I was the only potential telepath here._

"You assume too much," I say.

"Hehehe…don't be cruel, Raven."

_'Cruel'……_

_Am I really cruel?_

I don't know Russian. I don't know sign-language. Never have I studied morse code or other secretive lingos. All I know….is the universal art of silence.

_Silence._

I am silent as Starfire talks about her chore exploits.

I am silent as the pizza comes and everyone's eating the cheese and crust and grease but me.

I am silent during Beast Boy's anecdotes of fighting crime with the Doom Patrol…

And Cyborg's rantings about his latest Star Wars fanfic.

And finally….

As we leave the place….

I am silent as I pass by the table.

As I pass by _him_.

I sense his eyes following me for but a second….then falling to the ground in some sort of softly-cold defeat.

Outside…

On the sidewalks…

Halfway out to the T-Car….

Beast Boy walks to my side and whispers: "Raven? Come on…why do you have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You could have at least said something to him! He looked like the sweetest thing in the world!"

I give him my trademark drone: "Obsessed fans come in all shapes and sizes. Just because he doesn't speak English doesn't mean I have to pity him."

"You don't know that!"

"It's all irrelevant."

"Darn it, Raven…," Beast Boy hops in front of me, blocking my path. "You're always doing this to yourself! Why don't you give a really sweet guy a try sometimes instead of being so cold and silent to every opportunity all the time?"

I glare at him. "Why would you _care_?"

"……………," he takes a deep breath. A slow…subtle frown crosses his features. "Never mind, Raven. I think you just answered my question…"

And….in a cold, silent brew of his own he turns around and walks off to join Terra by the T-Car.

"………..," I stand alone with the aftertaste of tea in my mouth. And somehow, my favorite quaff is strangely bitter to me.

I walk into the T-Car that afternoon with the same thought that is going through my head now that I crawl underneath the covers for a night's sleep.

_Dear Azar….._

I hate myself so much…..


	35. Long

﻿

The back doors to the prison van slam shut and the vehicle speeds off with a wailing siren towards the distant prison building. An assortment of other squad cars and emergency vehicles rev their engines, switch on half of their sirens, and speed off to escort the van full of dangerous criminals away.

The Titans and I stand on the sidewalk of a rubble-strewn street in front of a bank where the latest robbery has been stopped. Cyborg is talking to a few remaining police officers and cleanup crews. Robin—who has been banged up slightly in the battle—sits on the sidelines besides Starfire, who is talking pleasantly with him.

I'm leaning against a lamppost with the hood of my robe down. A gentle, afternoon breeze blows at my blue strands as I fold my arms and gaze into the amber sunset.

"You did good this evening, Rae…."

I glance over. My lips curve slightly. I drone: "Thank you, Beast Boy…"

The green elf has a few scuff marks on his uniform from combat. He nervously scratches the ends of his pointy ears and gestures: "You saved my butt a few times. Eheheh….guess I wasn't turning into fast enough animals to outrun those creeps' bullets…."

I shrug. "I am quite sure you will repay me or have already repaid me." I glance back out at the sunset. "Let's just be glad we made it through this latest combat."

"Yeah……."

Silence.

Beast Boy is lingering. He knows it. He knows that I know it.

I glare through the corner of my violet gaze and say: "Yes?"

"I was just wondering……."

"Wondering what?"

"Why'd you decide to cut it?"

"…………….," I bite my tongue. I've been expecting this. But in Beast Boy's case, I hadn't thought he would take so indirect a route towards opening the conversation with me. I sigh and pretend that I am clueless in a façade that even the elf—I'm sure—can see through. "What do you mean?"

"Your hair…."

"Yeah?"

"It was……long and stuff for just one night, at least."

"I cut it."

"Yeah…."

"I……don't like having really long hair," I murmur. The arms that I have folded are starting to clutch at my upper limbs. Tighter. Tenser….

"Why not?"

I clench my jaw. "Does it matter?"

"S-Sorry….."

I don't want to hurt him. Not at all.

I sigh: "Nothing to be sorry for, Beast Boy. I just….I-I don't see the point, I guess."

He smiles nervously. "It was…..pretty…."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Pretty?"

"Yeah. The whole long hair thing."

"You miss Terra, don't you?"

"Pffft! It's not just a thing I have for blonde hairstyles!" Beast Boy sticks his tongue out. "Starfire's got really pretty hair. And now that I think of it, Supergirl's quite the looker…."

"Maybe now you know why I keep mine short."

"Oh no, Raven! I-I didn't mean that! You're gorgeous in and out of the lengthy fashion!"

"Where is this conversation going and why am I listening to it?"

"Well, I can't answer the last part…," Beast Boy shrugs. "Just….that…erhm…."

"……….," Beast Boy smiles gently. "I kinda feel bad that you decided to cut it."

"It was my choice. I have no intention to reverse it."

"But still……..it was nice looking," Beast Boy said. In a softer voice he added: "Out of everything that happened to you that night, I thought it'd be the one thing you could keep to just…..feel good about."

"………………," I take a deep breath.

"Erhm….R-Raven?"

"Yes, Beast Boy?"

"I meant what I said. W-We all are happy that you were born. We wanted to celebrate your birthday and…..and what Slade did and what Slade tried to do, we hated him so much. We still do. We can't believe he would do the things he did to you on your birthday of all occasions. And…….it hurts us, Raven."

"Beast Boy—"

"It really does."

"I don't need you to tell me this," I drone. I gaze at him softly. Neutrally. "Thank you, but it isn't necessary…."

Beast Boy is biting his lip. Fidgeting. "Isn't it?"

"Sometimes I think that…..that you feel alone, Raven," Beast Boy says. "Sometimes I think that you feel like we don't appreciate you or understand you."

"I don't ask for you and the Titans to understand me," I almost growl.

"Then what is it that you want, Raven? Tell us. Tell us what we can do to make you feel more comfortable around us……."

"…………….," I don't say anything. I merely sigh.

Beast Boy stares down at the floor. Defeated. "Anywho….I-I'm sorry for bothering you, Rae. It's getting close to nighttime. I guess we should all go to the Tower and….rest up or something…."

He turns to walk across the street to Robin and Starfire--

"We could do ice cream."

"……?" Beast Boy turns around. "Hmmm?"

"All of us," I murmur. Half-looking at him. "We can do ice cream….together." I tilt my head up. A half-attempt to smile. "If everyone needs to…..relax……."

"…………..," he smiles. "That's a **great** idea, Raven. I'll see if the others are up to it. Though….I'm sure they are!"

"Hmmm…," I nod gently with a thin grin. "You go and do that."

"Hehehe…right away!" and he jogs off.

I take a deep breath. The smile fades from my face, but a certain warmth remains. I drape the hood over my blue head. My wrists linger. I rub my arms and upper limbs. Feeling…searching….scanning for red birthmarks on the pale flesh. But none show….

I shudder. I compose myself. I walk across the gentle sunset towards where all my battle-weary friends are once again joining together, proposing an outing, and generally smiling and laughing in some secret camaraderie.

Though….not all things have to be secret.

_You want to know how I can feel more comfortable around the Titans, Beast Boy?_

I drift towards them.

_What I want is something I cannot ultimately have._

I lower my hooded gaze towards the street as I pass on and exhale.

_I want none of you to have to fear me someday………_


	36. Wait

﻿

"He's been gone far too long…," Robin murmurs. "And I honestly don't like his radio silence. Not one bit."

I glance up from my book. I'm levitating at the far end of the Tower's front atrium. I'm reading in the dark. I'm always reading in the dark.

"You are not doing yourself any good by losing rest over it."

Robin paces around, oblivious to my insistence. His eyemask is narrow and his teeth grit as he continues on ranting: "We sent Cyborg into H.A.E.Y.P. to do reconnaissance. That was…..nearly _three weeks_ ago!"

"Robin, things like this take time."

"Yes, but that's a little TOO MUCH TIME in my book! The clock is ticking. H.A.E.Y.P. and their new headmaster is bound to make another terrorist attack on the City. How can we rest when that's about to happen? How can Cyborg be SILENT…..when that's on the horizon?"

I take a deep breath and flip a page.

"Sometimes, Robin, you just have to put faith in people that…..well……_you already have faith in."_

"Nnnngh….," Robin covers his masked face with a gloved hand.

I half-glare at him. "You **do**….trust Cyborg, correct?"

"Yeah, just—"

"Stop being so impatient."

Robin stops pacing. He glances at me. Squinting.

I dig my nose into the book like nothing's wrong.

"Seriously….you're starting to rub off of me."

"It doesn't show," he says.

"Pray that it doesn't."

A beat.

He strolls over to me some. "You could teach us all a lot about patience, couldn't you…Raven?"

"………," I look up from my book again. "It depends."

He raises an eyebrow. "How so?"

I take a deep breath. "Patience means having something to look forward to….."

"………………" He has no response.

I slowly lower my head and gaze into my reading material.

Silence……

"I'm going to try contacting 'Stone' one last time…," Robin murmurs. He walks past me. "If he doesn't respond. I'll be taking the initiative and sending us in to infiltrate H.A.E.Y.P. earlier if I have to."

"Whatever, Robin," I drone. "You're the leader."

A pause.

A gloved hand on my shoulder.

My breath leaves me some.

With violet eyes a bit wider…confused….I look up.

Robin looks intently at me. With a gentle voice he says: "And after this whole mission is done……I would like to have a talk with you about…..not believing in things to look forward to."

"…………….." I gaze at him.

There's no sternness in his comment. Nothing absolutely imperative in his voice. Something rather liquid….free.

"Understood?"

"Uh…..y-yeah….."

His lips curve slightly. "Now….I'm off to see why Cyborg's hiatus is taking so long." His hand releases from my shoulder and he walks off. "Take care, Raven."

"Sure thing…..Robin."

He's gone.

I'm alone.

I swallow something down and return quietly to my pages.

But the words are a little bit difficult to decipher now.

For I'm suddenly overrun with a weight of impatience.


	37. Smirk

﻿

"Pssst…..H-Hey! Raven!"

"Nnngh….," I look up lethargically from where I am doing dishes in the Main Room's kitchen sink. "What is it, Terra?"

Her back is to me.

She seems to be hunched over…examining something.

I can't for the life of me figure out why she and Beast Boy have stopped squawking to one another.

For a while, they were chatting noisily….annoyingly, as usual.

But now…. look!"

"I'm busy," I drone. "Spaghetti attacked your plates two evenings ago and here I am now stuck cleaning up the battlefield."

"You gotta come see this!"

I sigh.

I place the plates down in the dish sink to soak.

I adjust my robe and shuffle across the Main Room to the couch where Terra stands.

"What….is it?" I half-groan.

"Tee hee….," Terra points. "Look!" she utters in a hoarse, gentle voice.

"……..," I glance down.

Beast Boy lies on the sofa.

Full spread.

Still….his eyes shut….his mouth hanging open.

"………….you killed him. Congratulations."

"I did not!" Terra hisses.

"So he's asleep. Big deal."

"Isn't he so cute lying down like that?"

"…………," I raise an eyebrow at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I just think B.B.'s really cute when he's sleeping," Terra smiles sheepishly at me. "Well, all boys are. But Beast Boy especially. Look how gently he breathes….I bet you never catch him being this still during any other hour of the day."

"For which….I am thankful….."

"Awww! Look! He even drools when asleep!"

I clench my eyes shut, turn around, and march back to the kitchen. "Excuse me….I need to go back to the sink. I think I'm going to throw up."

"Bah!" she again hisses….playfully. "You have no appreciation for truly handsome creatures!"

"Beast Boy is many creatures….all of which are _green._ **Not** 'handsome'."

"You sound so bitter when you say that."

I pause.

I turn around and gaze at Terra from afar. "Bitter?"

"Y-Yeah…," she nods. Her eyes are detached from both me and Beast Boy as she pushes a lock of golden hair away from her brow and fidgetingly utters: "C-Can I ask you something, Rae?"

"Call me _Raven."_

"Fine. Can I ask you something, Raven?"

"Sure…."

"………what was it that first attracted you to Beast Boy?"

"………….," I close my eyes and rub my temple. "Nnngh….ahem….e-excuse me…" I blink with fluttering lids like I'm waking up and try to re-focus on the earthen blonde. "What did you just ask me?"

Terra blinks at me. Innocently confused. "Er…..s-sorry if it's too personal a question…."

"It's not personal, it's perplexing."

"How so?"

"Number one…," I pointed. "I never was attracted to Beast Boy. Not in any sense."

"You weren't?" she leaned her head to the side, mouth agape in confusion.

"No ma'am."

"Then…Th-Then what ever possessed you to go out with him?"

"………….huh?"

Terra nervously pointed, still speaking in a low voice so as not to awake the sleeping elf. "I could have sworn that y-you two were an item long before I joined the team…."

"Ohhhhhh ho-ho no….," I slowly shake my head as I drift back over to the couch. A slight curve to my lips. "That would break the laws of all things fair and equal in this world where mass and energy is conserved."

"I see….."

A beat.

I squint suspiciously at her. "What ever made you think that---?" I pause. I clench my fists and practically snarl: "Beast Boy……he _told_ you that we 'were an item', didn't he?"

Terra smiled nervously. "Well…."

"He _lied_…..didn't he?"

Terra toyed with a lock of golden hair and refused to look at me. "Well……….."

I shake. My eyes flicker an angry bright-gray….then fade as I relax with a sigh. "………….jerk."

"I don't think he's a jerk!" Terra frowns.

"Naturally….."

"He really had feelings for you, Rae…er…I'm sorry….'Raven'," Terra points. "Beast Boy had more than a crush on you at one time! I know it!"

"So do I," I murmur.

Terra does a double-take. "A-And you never did anything about it?"

"Why would I want to?"

I sigh. I explain: "Terra….whenever I'm around Beast Boy, I feel like I'm being a _mother_. Sorry…but…that doesn't appeal to me in the least."

"……….you don't say."

"I do."

"Well….," Terra simpers. "I-I guess that explains that then."

I gaze at the sleeping elf. His calm, green complexion. Eyes softly close.

"Feh……," I look back at her. "Seriously….you have nothing to worry about."

"Hmmmm?" she looks up.

I gesture. "I'm not about to rain on you two's romantic parade."

Terra makes a face: "Hey! Just what makes you think that he and I are--?"

I glare at her.

She shrinks away….wincing….. "Uhh…….yeah….."

"Stare at him sleeping all you want," I drone. "I don't care."

Terra rubs the back of her neck….but she is hiding a smile. A deep….happy smile.

I can see right through it.

A pause.

I haven't gone back to the sink of dishes yet.

Something strange is anchoring me there.

And I ask her: "Can I ask you…..just what is it that makes you like him so much? Besides watching him sleep that is…."

"………," Terra gazes at Beast Boy. With feather-light touches of her finger, she toys with the short hairs on the back of his scalp and she smiles. "He makes me feel…..like a mother…….."

"………………………………you're wyrd."

"Hehehehehehehe."

I push the strand of blue hair back over my bang. I drone: "I can't believe he lied to you…."

"I can."

"Yeah….whatever."

Terra stands up straight. "Awww…poor thing. He looks cold. Do we have any blankets around here?"

_Why do I feel déjà vu?_

"Yeah….out in the hallway," I point. "There should be a closet full of them."

"Wow, really?"

"Movie night," I explain.

"Ahhhh….hehe….sounds toasty."

"If you say so."

"Excuse me for a moment," she smiles and happily makes her way towards the adjacent hallway.

I'm alone with Beast Boy.

The sleeping….'handsome' elf.

The quietness of the room.

_WHAP!_ I slap him across the back of his head.

"SNORT—Snnkkt-AAUGH!" he wakes up, gasping. Twitching. "Wha--…Whe--…Wh---….Slade? Mumbo? Mad Mod?" He sits dazedly on the couch. Blinking. "Nnngh….hello?" Silence. Loneliness. "Who the heck clobbered me?" Another beat. "And why am I drooling?"

I don't answer him.

I have already crossed the length of the Main Room and now stand inside the elevator about to descent.

As the doors close, I gaze into the wall.

And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I can't seem to get this _smirk_ off my face…..


	38. Blinx

﻿

"HAAAA!"

FLASSSH!

"Azarath metrion ZINTHOS!"

FWOOOSH!

Pink energy mashes against black shielding in the center of the oil platform.

The two color streams burst.

Jinx lands from an acrobatic flip.

I plant on the ground from a levitating dive.

"Nnngh!" Jinx angles her pink head forward and charges at me.

Robe billowing, I sprint straight at her.

She summons a blade of hex.

I producea sphere of black energy.

"HAAAAA!" she flings her pink serration straight at me.

I snarland throw forward the spherical shield. "Nnngh!"

**_CLASSSH!_**

We collide on the upper tier of the oil platform.

Pipes hiss and spurt flame all around us.

We groan and struggle and fight to force the opposite opponent to the ground.

"Nnnngh….!"

"Mmmmnnghh!"

"I didn't th-think the Titans would be this reckless!" Jinx hisses. "Chasing H.A.E.Y.P. all the way here with your superpowers is just asking for trouble! This oil platform is practically a powder keg!"

"Only because Gizmo charged the entire place with C4 explosives!" I grunt at her. "Trying to make a mark in the oil industry?"

"If you're gonna fight us….I hope you're prepared to die as well!" Jinx struggles to say.

I push my shield against hers: "Death is trivial….if the need for justice is greater!"

"I-I never knew Raven of the Titans was so idealistic!"

"Nnngh…h-hardly! Idealism is a redundant way to live one's life! Existence is a deterministic prison that we are barely the active dictators of!"

"Nrghh….a-assuming you were willing to toss two and a half thousand years of Platonic philosophy!"

"Hardly! Like Plato…nghh…I-I agree that we are born with all the potential we'll ever need. But that manifests itself in more than just a rational spectrum, but also something akin to a spiritual autonomy!"

"What's the p-point of autonomy anyways?" Jinx hisses. "If life is…nngh…nothing but a grand hallucination, then what we individually accomplish matters only as far as we live up to our universal perception!"

"Wh-What are you talking about? Mmmngh…didn't John Locke lay out the predominating standard of empiricist rationality? The mind is a mostly passive, personal environment while the world is only a PARTIAL mental construct…hence giving way to the relative representation of what we call 'knowledge'!"

"But Berkeley mopped the floor with Locke, girl!" Jinx struggles to say. "The world is exactly as we perceive it, for the m-mind is wholly active in our constant reinterpretation of the world! N-Nobody can trust her senses perfectly, wh-which is why color and sound and taste are just as illusionary as unicorns wh-when we don't see them! And yet e-everything I just m-mentioned could be conjured up in a st-state of psychosis when—nnghh—the binds the keep our mentalities enslaved to grand narratives are finally torn loose and tossed into oblivion!"

"I never thought that you were-nnnghh!—an avid fan of such radical subjectivity! I can deign to some aspects of idealism, but Berkeley is as insane as his ultimate teachings are! If there is indeed any s-significance t-to be found in a concrete world where active mental constructs and physical circumstance coincide to produce for us the sensation of reality, then one can only find answers in s-separating her mind from the imprisoning flesh domain of the body through careful meditation and purposeful deconstruction of the linguistic and hallucinogenic tools of homo sapien rationality that hold us down!"

"That sounds kinda mystic. Are you into Zen at all?"

"Yes. I meditate daily."

"Cool. So do I…..with Hello Kitty fragrance candles."

"You don't say."

"Yup………….."

"……………….."

"………………."

"……………..you know….if you believe in Berkeley so much, then the color pink for me could just as easily be 'blue' for you…."

"HEY!" Jinx snaps out of it and frowns at me. "I happen to LOVE pink!"

_FLASH!_

She shoves me back.

I slide across the platform and lift up three levitating pylons of steel to toss at her.

"Nnnnnghhh!" she summons a huge ball of energy.

I grit my teeth and flick my wrist, tossing the steel beams at her. "Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

_FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!_

_**FLAAAAAAAAASH!**_


	39. Laugh

﻿

My teammates think that I am helplessly fatalistic.

And to some extent, they are correct.

The one thing that I would love to correct about their perception of me—however—is their constant assistance that I—being fatalistic—am inherently sunken into a pit of despair.

To some extent—yes—I am frighten. But it is not because of the awareness of death. But rather…something much more complicated.

At this point in my life, it is safe to say that I have accumulated a great deal of spiritual and psychobiological closure.

And this has all come to me with one thought that finally hammered into stone the true nature of existence for me.

Death is death. There is nothing beyond it.

I summon forth the essential qualities of existentialism.

Life….is absurd.

Why?

All human beings—all organisms for that manner; plants and animals and microbes—are unanimously given the essential instincts and qualities to survive. The frog learns to live an amphibious life in and out of water. The beaver builds his dam for his family. The ants form a convoy to carry food back to their nest.

So many years of evolution have produced organisms fully capable of surviving the hardships that assault them. Creatures now are more talented in continuing their existence and attaining sustenance than ever before.

And to what ends?

The frog shrivels away. The beaver eventually suffocates. And the ants become food for their next generations of young, hungry workers.

Life perfects its survivability only to die from the cold hand of mortality.

And for that reason, life is absurd.

As a human being, I can perceive this absurdity. The senselessness of death looms before me, and I can't see beyond the black curtain. I am a helpless observer strung before the inevitability of my end. And no matter how well I may feel today…no matter how much crime my teammates and I defeat…no matter if I get married and bear children and procreate life or do the exact polar opposite, I shall be rewarded with my own, natural termination in the long run. Or so is the running, observable pattern of my existence.

But none of that truly convinced me that death is real and absolute.

It wasn't until many months after joining the Titans and living amongst these wonderful, warm creatures who have both supported me and annoyed me that I found the sure sign of death's legitimate omnipotence.

My friends laugh.

As a matter of fact, all human beings laugh.

And just why is it that laughter is such a prevalent emotion in the human race?

I am at a loss to sit down and try to explain to some emotionless android what 'humor' is. For I don't know what it is myself. And I seriously doubt that even Beast Boy—or Cyborg when he's in a good mood could explain it.

Humor is like an explosive, orgasmic reaction to irony. But even then, one cannot divide the definition of irony from that of hilarity. There is no solid, self-supporting definition of humor.

Which leads me to accept the fact that humor is something instinctively indicative of human beings. And if that's the case, humor is as important and biologically functional a part of the human psyche as anger, sorrow, happiness, and fear.

But what purpose does humor serve?

Anger connects to the homo sapien carnivore instinct.

Sorrow functions as negative reinforcement in response to stimuli while happiness functions as positive reinforcement.

Fear is the most instinctive of human qualities and deserves very little explanation.

But what of humor?

Why do humans have this insipid desire to break from whatever it is they are doing and—upon impulsive reaction to a thought—exhale violently a chuckle or a laugh or some other outburst of hilarity?

And just now, it has clicked with me.

Laughter is humankind's instinctive response to death, for it reveals that within every single person's psychobiological construct that there is an inherent, genetic awareness of impermanence.

The blood that surges through our vessels knows that someday it will surge no more.

And that is absolutely absurd.

And our bodies and our minds know of this absurdity more than our superficial egos will admit to. And laughter is our only temporary, psychological escape from the pointlessness of existence.

Why do I know that humor is our response to absurdity?

Because absurdity is a specific realization dependent upon the exclusive sentience of human beings and our mutatedly-large cerebral cortexes. If animals possess a sentience that makes them aware of the inevitability of mortal death in spite of all their survival instincts….we as finitely observing beings are at a loss to declare. But answer me this: do animals laugh? Do they truly, truly laugh?

I am convinced now that death is real because laughter haunts human beings as a definitively instinctive absurdity.

But that isn't what frightens me.

What frightens me is that ever since I moved into the Tower—ever since I've been in the company of other human beings—I've had Beast Boy toss jokes at me, Cyborg pull pranks on me, and Starfire say ironically cute things in my company….

….and in each and every circumstance, my friends have laughed….

And I haven't.

In fact….I have never….ever truly felt the need to laugh while living alongside the Titans.

And I wonder…

I wonder if this is something deeply rooted in my magical existence that is forewarning my psyche—long before fate has a chance to confirm it—that I am destined to never taste death….

That perhaps….I am fated to live eternally…..

And that is what scares me.


	40. Space

﻿

"…………………….."

"…………………….."

"…………………….Raven?"

I cringe.

I shudder.

I sigh with my temple pulsing and calm myself.

"What is it….Starfire?" I look up lethargically from my book.

She has been sitting across from me for the past thirty minutes in the atrium of the Tower.

Her hands are in her lap.

Her head leans gently to the side as she stares at me in a fashion that—for all I know—she's been staring at me with for as long as she's been in here.

I've dreaded the sound of her voice piercing my reading time….

But I suppose all things are inevitable.

Might as well make the use of it….

"Did you need something?" I reiterate with a half-impatient drone.

"I was curious….if……if y-you could supply me with some of your wisdom."

"…………," I raise an eyebrow. "Regarding……..?"

Starfire bites her lip.

Her green eyes cast aside as she hugs her far shoulder with her hand.

"I-I was somewhat curious regarding……issues………w-with young Terran males……."

I blink.

_Thwomp!_ I close my book.

"This is about Robin, isn't it?"

She sheepishly smiles, her amber cheeks red. "W-Well….."

"Starfire, ever since we returned home from the alien planet, you've had nothing to talk about _but_ Robin."

"Hehehehe….am I that similar to an earthen glass vessel?"

"…………you think you're transparent?"

"I apologize for intruding. Honestly, there is nobody on the team that I would find comfortable to ask this of besides you, Raven."

"You can't talk to Robin?"

"Robin……….," Starfire fidgets in her chair. I see her biting her lips and tracing the distant, shadowy walls of the atrium with her Tamaranian optics. "……our t-team leader requires his 'space'."

"……..," I sigh. "What is on your mind, Starfire?"

"What exactly is this _'space'_ that Robin is most concerned with, Raven?"

"Uhhhhh……"

"It was not until our galactic battle with the cosmic creature that I heard him utter it. And ever since our return to Earth, he has used the term 'space' to explain his………h-his need for solitude."

"Uh huh……"

"But I am confused. Space is everywhere, is it not, Raven? And the average Terran cannot exist inside a vacuum—"

"I don't think Robin meant extraterrestrial 'space'," I utter. "But you're right on the 'solitude' part. Mostly."

"But why is he so adamant about being alone, Raven?" Starfire says passionately. Her expression is strung up somewhere between a frown and a mope. "I was under the impression recently that he……..h-he enjoyed my being both a friend to him _and_ a girl!"

"It……It all comes down to the way boys are, Starfire," I say with a slight curve of my lips. Perhaps to ease her. Perhaps to ease myself. Perhaps nothing. "Especially at Robin's age……guys just don't like to be….—how should I put it--….touchy feely?"

"Huh?" she blinks.

I wince. "Er….m-maybe that's jumping the gun a bit…."

"So…..Robin is frightened to touch and to feel. Is there an issue with his somatosensory system?"

"No, Starfire—"

"If it is an epidermal disorder that Robin requires healing of, then certainly I can be of service! The textural ointment of Galavina Prime's moons have been known for their medicinal proper—"

"STARFIRE…..ugggh…," I rub my temple with a few fingers and close my eyes as I say: "Boys do not…..get as emotionally _intimate_ as you would think. It's all some sort of……machismo thing. It's a nightmare enough as it is to get any guy to open up and talk about the way they feel or whatnot either…."

"…………," Starfire gazes down to the floor. "I see….."

I look at her sideways.

She takes a deep, thoughtful breath. "Robin told me….back on the planet….that he is not very good at sharing how he feels. Especially about me."

"Yeah. That about sums it up."

She bites her lip. "I have been wondering if perhaps there is something wrong with me."

I blink. "Starfire—"

"And that I make it an unnecessary challenge for him to express his emoti—"

I reach a hand out and touch her forearm. "Robin's just being a guy. Trust me."

The alien girl slowly gazes up.

I manage the best smile I can….weakly, perhaps. But as honest as I can form it. "Guys have….more roundabout ways of showing that they care about a girl."

Starfire's eyes grow round. "Then…..Robin does have feelings for me?"

"I…..uh…..," I fidget momentarily. I simper. "I-I'm sure of it, Starfire."

"And in what roundabout ways has he displayed such?"

"Uhm….th-the things he has done, Starfire."

"Truly?"

"…………," my eye scan the ceiling. "Uhhhh…." I tongue my cheek. I look for it…find it…then turn to speak to her again: "….on Tamaran….when you were engaged to that…..that………th-that groom. Robin climbed the Tower to your balcony to visit you in person."

"That….is true….," she nods, gazing off into space.

"And…..uhhh…..when you were going through your—er—transformation, Robin sent the team out to find you. You remember that?"

"I have a fondness for that memory, truly," she smiled slightly….a little embarrassed.

"Then……hrmm……," I gesture with my hand to roll the thought out. "….all those times he's saved you from Johnny Rancid…..Dr. Chang……Killer Moth…..Mad Mod—"

"I believe it was I who saved him from that nefarious Briton."

"Whatever," I drone. "You get what I mean."

"Heeeeeee….," Starfire cups her hands together and grins girlishly. "I do believe I am understanding." She smiles and raises a pleasant finger. "Robin shares his feelings without speaking. He would rather let his actions replace words."

"Yes, Starfire. That…..uh….," I push my stubborn strand of hair up out from my brow. "…..that makes sense. Doesn't it? Yeah….."

"Then that is the psychology of young earthling males?" Starfire leans her head to the side with a curious blink. "They prefer an indirect manner in expressing their emotions? Something of cryptic nature?"

"Heh….'cryptic' is hardly the word I would call it. But sure."

"Terran boys are certain to grow out of this mannerism, yes?"

I cough……and cough.

She raises a Tamaranian eyebrow.

"Ahem….," I keep a straight face and look at her dead-on. "…..they certainly….take their sweet time with _growing up_."

"…………..oh."

"Yeah."

Silence.

I take a deep breath and finger the cover of my book again….

"But I am still confused, friend Raven…."

My heart stops.

My teeth clench.

"……why is he so concerned with his space?"

"I don't know, Starfire….," I sigh.

"Truly?"

"**Yes.**" I look at her. "Robin is a typical boy. Stubborn. Hard-headed. One-track mind."

"Yes….I-I have witnessed that…."

"He also has many secrets. Many that tie in with his occupation….his legacy as a crime fighter….is very core and being…."

"Which I do want so adamantly to find out about someday."

"And……that will take time, Starfire," I look at her. "If you're really serious about being with Robin—"

"Oh, indeed I **am**!" she exclaims.

I wince. "R-Right………Robin will eventually open up to you. Humans—especially male humans—aren't quite as passionate as Tamaranians, so I've seen. But trust me as an empath. Robin will come around. I am….I am just sure of it."

A beat.

She looks sadly towards the floor. Deflated. "How will I know it when Robin is doing the 'coming of the around'…..?"

"……………………….," I smile slightly. I look at her. "Because in all of my years of working with Robin….of knowing him as the fighter from Gotham City….from serving under his command and beating crime to a pulp by his side……………..I have never seen him so flustered as he has been since the day we all came back from that planet."

"…………………….," Starfire blinks hopefully.

I lean forward and emphasize: "You've broken through something, Starfire. You forced Robin to grow up a little….to grow up out of his own 'space'. And that shows something."

She smiles at that. She hugs herself and giggles. "Hehehehe….indeed I have…."

"Yeah….," I lean back. Nodding. "So….quit worrying…..and interrupting my reading and stuff."

"I anticipate 'breaking Robin' more in the immediate future! Hehehehehe!"

"Yeah….you do that, Starfire."

"His space shall experience the righteous fury of inevitable passion!"

I take a deep breath at that.

_Azar, what have I done._

I open my book again.

_Oh well._

"Space is a waste………"


	41. Week

﻿

"…………….."

"……………..Raven?"

"………………"

I am sitting.

At the edge of the Main Room.

With my nose in a book.

As ever.

As always.

Legs crossed as I sit at the eating booth.

Empty….

"…………"

"…………Raven?"

"…………."

"…………_Raven!"_

"Hmmm?" I tilt my head up. I blink boredly across the interior domain. "What is it?"

Robin is looking at me. All of the Titans are looking at me. They are gathered in a crescent around the Boy Wonder.

I realize then that a 'team meeting' has been in effect for the better part of twenty minutes.

Or….at least I think so.

_Whatever……_

"Did you hear what I said from over there?"

"Do repeat it again, Robin. I was only at the part where Heathcliffe digs up the grave."

"This is important, girl!" Cyborg waves an arm. "It's Brother Blood we're talking about!"

"Mrrrmmm…"

Robin faces the other Titans and continues speaking: "After studying data from Brother Blood's last H.I.V.E. base in the Pacific Basin, there's plenty of reason to believe that the villain now plots an invasion of covert guerrilla action along the East Coast. Cyborg has just recently cracked a code, and everything points to Steel City. A major industrial center along the Atlantic shoreline. In a matter of days, Brother Blood's forces are plotting to move. And I believe it to be our duty—as heroes and as Titans—to go over there en masse and investigate."

"All right!" Beast Boy cheers, pumping an arm. "Road trip!"

Cyborg glares at him. "Not that sort of road trip, little man."

"What? I've got Bikini Traffic Bingo. You ain't got _nothing_ on Bikini Traffic Bingo, dude…."

Starfire glances over at Robin. Concerned eyes of green. "What is to become of the City in our absence?"

The Boy Wonder nods. "As much as it is our duty to be on the back of Brother Blood, we must also not forget our ultimate duty to this City. Although I'd gladly have all of us pitch in and work together with our combined powers on this, it would be an atrocity…considering how much these citizens need us."

"So get Superman here to babysit the City while we're gone or something!" Beast Boy gestures. "He's a regular boy scout! He wouldn't mind spending some time outside of Luthor-ville. Heck, it'll be like a vacation for him I bet!"

"………," Robin glares. "Superman can't afford to leave Metropolis that long."

"What? He can't afford a day or two?"

"This will take a week long at _least_, Beast Boy."

The green elf's eyes bulge. He nearly pratfalls and gasps: "A _WEEK_? Dude….I can understand a road trip, but a _WEEK_? Do you have any idea how all of my fangirls will practically kill themselves from missing me? I'm too handsome to afford such a hiatus!"

"Cut the melodrama, B.B…..," Cyborg moans.

"What melodrama? None of you remember what happened when Valentino died?"

"Brother Blood is the sort of fiend to merit our mutual departure from this City, is he not?" Starfire remarks.

"I know. I'm at a bit of a dilemma here….," Robin sighs and rubs his temple. "If I had my way….I'd just have another team of Titans established that far out East so that we could all keep tabs on the Continent."

"Boo-ya! That'd be righteous! And just who would be on that team?"

Beast Boy Bit his lip. "Uhhh…….I don't think Mary-Kate and Ashley have discovered their pyrokinesis yet, dudes…."

"Brrrr…..twins….," Cyborg makes a face. "Heaven forbid…."

"I think I have a solution….," Robin says. "One of us should stay behind."

"While the other four venture to Steel City?" Starfire blinks.

Robin nods. "It may be a sacrifice of resources, but I consider that the lesser of two evils."

Cyborg shrugs: "So…..who stays and who goes?"

"Oh! Oh!" Beast Boy waves his arm wildly. "Me Me Me Me Me Me!"

"……," Robin stares at him. "You _what_?"

"………..….I don't know yet."

"As much as I would greatly enjoy being within the rapturous company of my fellow cohorts….," Starfire cups her hands together and murmurs: "…..I will gladly spend an excess of seven days here alone at the Tower to ensure the safety of our citizens."

"I applaud you for volunteering, Starfire. But we have to think this through."

"What's to be thought through?" Beast Boy shrugs. "My lady fans need me!"

"Running the Tower alone—much less the City—takes a great deal of effort," Cyborg says. "Setting the defense matrices. Going out on beats to spot criminals. Strategizing how to fight innumerable thugs alone if need be---"

"Not to mention the terrifying pain of solitude…," Starfire bites her lip.

Robin speaks. "Whichever one of us stays….it's got to be somebody with patience, with fortitude, and…….with nothing else to do."

_THWPP!_

I turn a page in my novel.

I read on.

The Titans turn around.

They gaze at me…….

"……….."

"……….."

"………."

"……….."

A beat.

"……………….," I glance up from my pages.

I stare at them.

I blink.

"………………what?"

An hour and a half has passed….

…..and now I stand in the personal weapons armory of Robin while the Boy Wonder speaks to me.

"I can't thank you enough, Raven," he utters aside as he rummages through canvass bag after canvass bag of random tools, weaponry, and vigilante gadgets. "You'll be well remembered for volunteering to be sentry of the Tower. When the rest of the team and I get back from tracking down Brother Blood, we'll see that you get some down time in reward."

"I don't exactly remember _volunteering_," I drone with ever so slightest the furrowing of my brow. "…..but sure."

"You're a very mature person, Raven. Sometimes I wish you would just accept being a 'second-in-command'. But whatever's the case, I can't imagine someone better suited to watch over this City in our absence."

"Crime hasn't been exactly _soaring_ as of late, Robin….," I say to him as he rummages through mountains of birdarangs. "And don't let your ego take this the wrong way, but I don't think that all the crooks in the world are going to come out of the woodwork just because you're gone."

"Right. But still, anything's possible. I want you to be on the guard, Raven."

"Right……."

"Here….," Robin suddenly spins and tosses me a yellow utility belt. "I want you to use this…."

I cradle the draping article of pocketry in two arms.

"………………………you've got to be kidding me…."

"I'm serious," Robin frowns. "You could be up against anything and everything out there on your own while we're gone. I want you to wear that when or if you fight any threats out on the street. You can't rely on your soul self's telekinesis for everything."

"You mean the same telekinesis that can skin you alive in a matter of seconds?"

His eyemask thins. "Is that a threat?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

He turns around to his belongings. "I won't argue with you, Raven," he gathered his tools and put them in a large crate. "I want this City safe and protected……but more than that I want you to not come to harm. You're a teammate, and a friend."

"And apparently an infant…."

"Are you complaining? Raven, infants don't toss birdarangs around."

"Fear not, Robin….," I drape the utility belt over my left shoulder. "I'll try not to drool on your grappling hooks."

"Nnnnnngh….."

Moments later, I am standing outside Beast Boy's room.

I hear him thrashing about inside.

Tossing junk and clutter around.

I sigh and roll my eyes as I lean against a hallway wall….

Two large duffle bags fly out, land squishingly in the middle of the floor, and thusly announce the head of the green elf poking out and blinking beady eyes. "Erhm….we don't have a forklift, do we? Eheheheh…."

My blue eyes narrow. "What are you trying to insinuate?"

"Ehh….we're taking the T-Ship anyways. That should have plenty of room in it," he said and retreated back into his domain.

"Beast Boy…..," I suspiciously murmur. "….you do know that this really isn't a vacation. You should only bring essentials with you."

"Look who's talking!" he utters muffledly from inside. "'Vacation! Vacation!'" He sticks his head out again……wearing a sailor's cap for some godawful reason. "Man, it must be soooooo lucky to be you! To have the Tower all to yourself! The _City!_ If it was me, I'd throw a huge-arse party!"

"Really now……"

"Yeah!" he ducks back in, muffling: "I'd get this huge banner and paint 'Sorority Girls Welcome' across it. Then buy a bunch of strawberries—cuz Sorority Girls like strawberries (or so Cyborg has told me—hehehehe-ahem)—and then let the good times roll. Rolling with moderation, of course. I'd leave the beer to root and the drugs to Flinstones Kids vitamins."

"These are all interesting propositions," I mutter. "I'm sure Robin would love to hear of them."

"So what? Trying to blackmail me, girl? It won't work! Hi-Yaaa!"

Beast Boy jumps out with a suitcase on wheels. He's dressed from head to toe with a Bermuda tourist ensemble, complete with a raggedy straw hat. "Ta daaaa! How do I look?"

"……………..," I stare numbly at him. I drone: "The Primordial Ooze called. Your mortgage still isn't settled."

He blinks at me. "Huh?"

Several disastrous minutes later….

"And that's how you handle the security system of the Tower….," Cyborg says as he finishes displaying the inner workings of the defense matrix in the Main Room. "….any questions?"

"Do I get to nuke anything?"

"Say what?.!.?"

"Just seeing if you're paying half the torturous attention that I've been paying you…."

"Cute…," Cyborg smiles nervously. _Beep! Whurrrr-CLANK!_ He closes the instrument panel. "…I'm going to miss your sense of humor while on the trip."

"And I'm going to miss your sarcasm…."

"Touche."

"So….like…..," I blink. I look at him and nod towards the closed instrument panel. "I'll have to reset that every time I so much as step out of the Tower?"

"Uhhhh….," he rubs the back of his head. He simpers. "In theory, yeah…."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Eh heh heh….," he blushes a little. "….I don't really expect you to leave the Tower much, is all, girl…."

"………………."

"What? Don't look at me like that. You know it's true."

"I'm not some sort of slacker. I'm here to protect the Tower while you're all gone."

"In between thumbing your pretty little fingers through more Bronte, right?"

"…………….," I fold my arms and glance off. Fuming. "You're pathetic…."

"Hah hah hah!" he ruffles my blue head of hair with a titanium hand. "And you're too predictable to be scary."

I shake loose from his touch, grit my teeth, and pulse a white gray brightness through my eyes. "Touch me again and you'll be scrap metal!"

"Nuh-uh!" he chirps as he waltzes off into the distance. "I'll be in Steel City by then, sweetheart!"

Moments later, I stand in Starfire's room.

"It is with a heart of heaviness and righteous depression that I must commit to our departure," Starfire utters in the midst of arranging…..many identical suits across her pink bed.

"'Depression'?" I'm still fumbling to straighten my blue head of hair. "Starfire, is something wrong--?"

"You are my closest 'friend who is also a girl'," Starfire murmurs as she packs her belongings. "Although my trip with the boys will certainly be an adventurous engagement, I am…….erhm……..what is the best way to express my feelings in Terran vernacular….."

"You'll be surrounded by testosterone the whole time."

Starfire sighs, deflating in a mid-air hover. "The prospect seems suddenly suffocating to me indeed…."

"Well, I didn't think it worthy to be said before, Starfire, but….," I rest my hands by my side and look at her straight-on. "….I think your girly side is starting to show some strong colors."

"Little difference it makes," she smiles gently at me. "I am certain that I can endure an extended leave of absence from the one other understandable bearer of estrogen in my life."

"……………y-yeah…."

"But I shall not lose my sanity!" Starfire suddenly brightens in dissociative fervor. "For I have been allowed to bring—"

I flinch, uncertain—

"—SILKIIIIIEEEE!" Starfire smiles with her eyes ecstatically shut as she picks up her huge maggot and spins it around in an engulfing hug. "Hehehehehe!"

"_Raaaaawaaaawwwwaaar!"_

My heart suddenly skips a beat.

"Oh….so….um…..," I blink. "You're _taking _Silkie?"__

"Indeeeeeeeed," she holds the worm up and nuzzles it cheek to cheek lovingly. "It took quite a bit of convincing on Robin's part. But he soon gave in after I related my desire to occupy the seat in the T-Ship furthest from his central cockpit, were we to depart without my beloved pet joining us and—"

"So…..I guess…..," I bite my lip and let my eyes trail. "Silkie will be going with you four after all. And…..h-he will be on the T-Ship…….on the trip………and uhh……n-not here in the Tower………with _me_….."

"Ohhhh, Raven….," Starfire's eyes glisten. She floats over and engulfs Silkie and I in a group hug. WHUMP!

"Ooof!" I wheeze.

"I am so sorry to isolate you in such a manner…," she coos. "I assure you that I mean no harm. I must merely be with my beloved Silkie if I am to survive this long, arduous trip ahead of us."

I pry myself telekinetically from her hug and gather my breath. "A-Ahem……It's…..q-quite all right, Starfire. We can make up for it later, I'm sure…………..much much _later_….."

"Hmmmm…hehe…," Starfire smiles. She tosses Silkie behind her.

"_Rawwwaaaawaaar!"_ KERPLUNK!

"I suppose I must not be entirely worrisome over you," she cups her hands together. "What I consider gruesome and nauseating isolation, you are quick to interpret as joyous tranquility."

"Uhh…..yeah…."

"It must be quite the rapture for you to have the Tower all to your lonesome," Starfire smiles. "You really should endeavor to do things to amplify the joy of your beloved solitude while we are absent."

"I'll be fine, Starfire……," I stroke a stubborn, loose strand of blue hair away and glance off to the side. "……it's no big deal, really…."

And finally….

….the hour comes.

Atop the roof of the Tower, I stand outside the ring of the topside launchpad. The T-Ship rests squarely on the roof. The four Titans are just now mounting their cockpits while an irate Beast Boy struggles and sweats to stuff a last suitcase into the cargo hold.

"Nnnnngh! Snkkkkkktt!" Beast Boy hisses. "Come on…..I didn't put THAT MANY Maxim magazines in this thing…d-did I?"

"Give it a rest, B.B….," Cyborg moans.

"Yes. We've got to go. Either loosen it or ditch it, Beast Boy," Robin sternly said.

"Nnnnngh!" Beast Boy shoves at the suitcase. Trying to squeeze it in. "J-Just….a little…..m-more….nnnngh…..nghhhhckkkkclkclkckkk—"

_Swooosh!_ An ejected arm of Cyborg's at the end of a titanium cord flies over, grabs the elf by the shoulder—YOINK!—and tosses him into his respectful cockpit.

"Waaaaiieeee!" Beast Boy FWOMPS(!) into his seat as the glass bubble closes around him. "Awwwww……dude! My ladies!"

"Don't get me started….," Cyborg retracts his hand.

"Hehehehe!" Starfire giggles from her cockpit with Silkie perched on her shoulder.

Robin looks down from the central compartment and the main controls in his grip. "Well, I think we've just about covered everything. You know how to keep in touch with us, right?"

I nod. "Don't worry, Robin….," I put the robe's hood over my blue head. "I'll keep a communicator on me at all times. Just forgive me if I have to sleep or shower once in a blue moon."

"Since when were your hands ever _not_ free, girl?" Cyborg winks.

An artery pulses in my temple. "The most dangerous point in a mission is _takeoff……"_

"Whoopsies! Okay, Robin…go-time!" Cyborg chuckles nervously.

Robin nods. "Right." He ignites the thrust. "Let's get going!"

"ROAD TRIP! ROAD TRIP!"

"We're in my T-Ship, butthead!"

"AIR TRIP! AIR TRIP!"

"Happy Mooglefax to you, friend Raven!" Starfire waves.

"……..," I fidget. I glance off towards the burning west horizon. The glittering ocean swallowing the last ounces of this Saturday afternoon. "……." I glance back up at the ship and before it takes off or before Robin's cockpit bubble is closed, I ask: "Not that I'm desperate to know or anything…..but how long do you think this 'trip' of yours is going to take?"

Robin shouted above the noise: "What?"

"I SAID, HOW LONG DO YOU THINK THIS IS GOING TO TAKE?"

"I'M GUESSING A WEEK, RAVEN! NOTHING MORE!"

"I HEAR YOU! GOOD LUCK!"

**PFTOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSH!.!.!.!**

The ship flies off into the distance.

"………………."

I hug my cloak tightly to myself and walk quietly down the stairwell into the body of the Tower.

The Tower…..

Inside, I am startled by something.

It hits me as soon as I start making tea inside the Main Room.

I pause.

I look around.

The walls.

The floor and ceiling.

The iciness of the windows and metal framework and hanging electronic equipment.

Silence.

Silence and more silence….

Paralyzing.

Penetrating.

All around me.

"……………………….."

I take a deep breath and resume making my tea.

"………..I just might learn to enjoy this after all….."


	42. Sun

﻿

**Sunday**

It's the morning light.

I know it is late in the A.M. hours, because the way in which my room is angled and the blinds are aligned, it takes a high rising sun to illuminate my bedroom just right and produce this sense of…….

………_annoyance._

It is but a momentary thing. Like waving at a gnat. An itch that is there and gone again.

I stir in bed.

"Mmmmm….."

My face scowls blindly.

I turn over, my silken strands a mess over my brow.

I suddenly wish I hadn't turned over, for the rays of the sun are piercing through my dark blue room and are stabbing what little of my violet eyes peek out from beneath the lids.

"Nnnnngh…."

I clench my eyes shut even tighter.

I throw some of the blue covers over my face and scrunch my petite body further into the depths of the bed.

I sigh.

I sit up….achingly.

The inner joints of my person popping.

Blood rushes through my brain and settles.

And as the senses come into focus……I can't help it.

I stretch.

Long and hard.

My arms over my frazzled blue head.

My neck twisting….head rotating as far as it can go.

"Nnnnngh….mmmm….."

I relax.

Blinking.

I rub my eyes.

Blinking more.

I gaze out the bright window.

The Sun glittering over the Bay.

The City's gray bodies stretching over roads.

A quiet Sunday morning.

_Quiet……_

Almost……

Nakedly quiet……

Like waking up to a beach that suddenly has no roar or tide.

_Something's wrong here………_

I blink.

I gaze about the room with thin violet eyes.

I search the walls and corners and furniture while—at the same time—searching the width and breadth of my head.

And then I realize why it's so hauntingly quiet.

"Mmmmmph….r-right….," I drone to the echoing chamber. "They're……all gone……"

Silence.

I gaze out the window.

"I…….s-slept in?"

Morning rays.

Warming.

Silent.

Waves of the Bay…..glittering….glittering…..

A softness I never saw before.

A texture I never touched before.

And it felt so clear….

……and _quiet_…..

My lips curved ever so slightly.

"…….so I 'slept in'…."

I swiftly yank the covers over my body, turn my back to the window, and gladly snuggle back into the warmth of the mattress….

…..and doze……………

…

…

An hour and a half later….

_Or has it been two hours?_

I don't care………

After a shower, I switch from my nightgown to my usual black leotard and blue robe.

I shuffle through the empty hallways of the Tower.

My feet make echoing noises against the metal walls….floors….

Quietly, I walk past Cyborg's laboratory….

Robin's armory….

Starfire's bedroom….

Silkie's play pin….

All empty.

All vacant.

All…..

……quiet.

I reach an elevator.

I press a button to take me up to the Main Room.

I stand with my arms folded.

My head hiding under the robe's hood, as always.

I gaze left.

I see the gymnasium.

Its training facilities abandoned.

Its exercise equipment utterly untouched.

Everything silent and shadowed.

A humongous waste of space.

I gaze right.

The hallway stretches on and on towards the evidence room.

Robin's prized possessions.

Glass displays full of quiet, darkly obscured objects.

Dust laden over a twenty-four hour pyriod.

_Ding!_

I gaze forward calmly.

The doors to the elevator open to take me up.

I shuffle in. Slowly.

I turn around…….slowly.

I reach a hand forward…….slowly……….towards the floor buttons.

My eyes….my mind linger somewhere. Silent.

I press the button for the Main Room high up in the Tower.

The doors close.

Suddenly--

A jerk(!)

_Cl-Clunkka!_

I reach a thin hand forward and stop the elevator doors from closing.

I emerge through the frame of the elevator shaft.

I gaze down the hallway from which I came.

Contemplating……

……my lips curve ever so slightly.

…

…

_Schwissh!_

As I enter the Main Room, fifteen minutes later….

Gone is the blue robe and leotard.

Instead, I am clad slovenly in….

Beige slippers.

Gray sweatpants.

And a long, long t-shirt that is heinously big on my petite frame….

…..with a pathetically copied black-and-white print of Edgar Allen Poe's photograph above the black text: "You Know I'm Happy To Be Alive"

I don't realize it, but….

I'm humming something.

I'm humming a tune that I can't even remember…

…as I shuffle lazily, casually across the Main Room to the kitchen unit.

Making a bee-line for the refrigerator and cupboard….for the makings of herbal tea.

_What is this tune?_

It feels……popular.

But then, why would I be humming it?

Whatever……it doesn't mean anything.

Besides……nobody is here.

I am stirring water and herbs in a saucer.

Humming….

Thinking….

I freeze.

My heart skips a beat

I look up….blinking at the lonely walls.

………_why am I humming when I could be _**singing**

I shudder at the thought.

I ditch the 'humming', and instead wander over to a softly-lit stretch of carpet besides the wide-framed windows.

I sit down cross-legged—yes, on the carpet—and take a sip from the saucer before placing it down on the floor.

I then clear my throat….clear my mind…..pivot in a yoga position……and face the bright glittering expanse of the City and Bay beyond the glass in front of me…

…..the 'bright glittering expanse' that I cannot see because I am meditating.

_Great Azar, I am _**meditating**…..

It is so quiet.

And it is so still.

I become one with the whole, empty Tower before becoming one with myself….

….and dissolving it all away…

……..with a breath………

Water to steam.

Steam, invisible.

Invisibility……aimless.

Expanding across the universe.

Lucid….but formless.

And _free._

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos……….Azarath Metrion Zinthos…………Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos…….."

…

…

Later that early afternoon….

….again, I am losing track of time…

I now sit at the computer array of the Titan's Main Room.

I have listed before me all observed incidents of the City district.

Everything from misdemeanors to possible felonies.

And from what I can see, not a single situation is a 'job for the Titans'.

There is nothing that the cops cannot handle.

Nothing to usher me out of the Tower.

No bank robberies.

No kidnappings.

No radioactive mutant slime booger monsters.

No escaped supervillains.

And certainly no Brother Blood.

I exhale….leaning my chin against one hand and toying with an empty tea saucer in another.

Staring boredly at the flickering monitors.

The string of text.

The empty slots.

Nothing.

Nothing…..

Nothing…………

I sit back in the chair, fold my arms over my chest, and sigh.

I brush a lazy strand of blue hair out from over my brow and blink.

"………well…," I drone to the empty silence of the air. "……not like I was dressed for much action anyways….."

…

…

Even later in the day….

Further silence.

Further nothing….

I drift down the cold, empty stares.

Into the wide open atrium of the Tower.

Before the tall, iron doors.

I find a lonely chair.

I shuffle up to it.

I sit, scrunch back, and curl up in the embrace of the furniture.

I open up a hard back book in my hands…

Lean my blue head back.

And read…..

"…………………."

…

…

Time passes by.

I have changed positions on the chair four to six times.

I now lie—slouching quite a bit—in the chair.

Four chapters forward.

One of many books I have read one too many times.

Dwelling over Arthur Dimmesdale's cancerous health.

Hester Prynne's daughter flying across the room.

_Or is she really flying?_

Since when did witches grow wings?

A sorceress doesn't ride broomsticks or turn people into frogs with a simple flick of a wrist.

_  
A sorceress lives in the dark and collects dusty books from antique libraries and refuses to wear makeup despite the insistence of goofy, green, animorphic elves constantly knocking on her door and demanding to join in tossing around balls of stinky socks in some sort of ritualistic sport while knights in shining armor in eyemasks trip on their capes and fall down the toilet bowl of economical zebra skin polymer titanium ice cream………_

………

I am falling asleep—

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!_

"Daaaah!" I jump in my chair with a telekinetic blast of black that sends my novel flying across the atrium.

SWOOOOSH-**WHAP!**

I pant…..pant….pant….

_Beep-Beep-Beep!_

The communicator in my sweat pants' pocket seems quieter now. Less thunderous.

An artery pulses in my temple.

I sigh.

I pull out the communicator and glance at it.

Violet eyes narrow.

I get up and float towards the stairs leading up towards the elevator.

…

…

"_Raven, are you there?"_

I float up to the computer station where Robin's face is showing in static transmission.

"Yes, Robin. I'm here."

_"……………,"_ his eyemask narrows. _"What are you wearing?"_

I merely blink.

"………..uhhh………."p-people" skin?"

"_Never mind. How's the City fairing?"_

"Hasn't blown up yet. At least, last time I checked."

_"And the Tower?"_

I sigh. "Robin….the most dangerous thing to happen here since you and the Titans left have been jaywalking dust bunnies. What about the mission? How goes the pursuit of Brother Blood?"

_"We arrived in Steel City not long ago. We're coordinating a search along with the local authorities. We hope to have things cleared away here before long. I'm getting the sense that this may be a wild goose chase when it comes to the H.I.V.E. leader. But when it all comes down to it, it's important for the Titans to be here. One: We're following through with Brother Blood no matter the cost. Two: This gives me a chance to take a look at Steel City up close………and to consider possibly setting up a spot to make a camp here."_

"That…..'Teen Titans East' you've been talking about…."

_"Exactly. So it's important for us to be here……just as it is also important for you to be there—keeping guard."_

"Keeping guard on what?" I blink. "Not that I'm complaining—mind you—but if I keep my eyes out any more for things I can't see, they'll fall right out of my sockets."

_"Well, have you gone on a City beat yet?"_

"………………………….excuse me?"

"_Have you gone out into the City?"_

"Uhh….no."

"_Huh? Raven, why not?.?.?"_

"There've been absolutely no reports from the police force. Not a single crime, not a single robbery, not a single---"

_"You know that alert system can't catch absolutely _**everything**_, Raven! There are some things that only you and the rest of us Titans can sense! What's the matter with you?"_

"Gee, I dunno, Robin. You tell me."

"_I want you going on a daily beat to examine the City."_

"…….are you sure?"

"**Yes!** _And make it twice a day!"_

I groan.

"_Is that clear, Raven?"_

"Yes, Robin," I fold my arms and glance boringly aside. "I'll go on a pie-in-the-sky search for nonexistent malicious phenomena to support your glowingly anal ego while you are absent from the City with the rest of the quasi-functional Titans."

His face twisted on the flickering monitor. _"Huh? Raven……are you being _**sarcastic**?" He stupidly asks.

"With you being that far away….," I finger the switch to the computer. "…..definitely."

_Click!_

His face disappears.

"…………………," I sit there for a moment. Seemingly dazed. "Huh…….," I hum, "………that felt kind of good, actually."

A beat.

I sigh.

I stand up.

I flex my arms, gazing pathetically at my casual housewear.

"Guess I'm doing laundry sooner than I thought….."

I turn and head towards the elevator at the back of the Main Room.

At some point in my trek, I pause.

I turn and glance at the computer system where Robin's face was. I smile ever so slightly over my shoulder. "Oh….and…uhm……….._'Raven out'."_

I proceed towards my room.

…

…

Moments later, I ascend to the rooftop of the Tower through the stairwell.

I emerge in my blue robe and black leotard.

Blue strands of hair blowing in the wind.

I gaze out towards the sunset-lit City.

I take a deep breath.

The cool air.

The Sea and the scent of the world.

Looming in glittering/gray fashion before me.

"Hrmmmm….," I hum as I reach the edge and 'spread my wings'. "If anything…..this will make sleeping _that_ much more pleasant tonight."

And I 'step off' the edge of the building….

…..and drift forward.

Levitating.

Angling my body.

Then soaring towards the City.

…

…

The sun has set.

Night has fallen.

And still I am levitating over the City.

My cloak billowing.

My eyes thin, scanning.

Drifting over….over…..over the streets below.

And I see nothing.

And I hear nothing.

And I sense nothing……awry.

I groan to myself…..pausing on a rooftop every now and then to rub my temples in stressful annoyance.

Exasperated sighs a-plenty.

To the point that I wonder if the only nefarious thing plaguing this Town is the unsightly image of a pale-as-a-demon blue-haired girl in a coat soaring eerily overhead.

At first, I think I'm exaggerating.

Then—when I fly over an intersection—two cars with distracted drivers gasping up at me through their windshields swerve and nearly hit each other.

And that's when I realize:

"This………is pointless……."

After the droning of admittance, I flutter over and land atop a rooftop.

A fairly familiar rooftop……

_Soto Dance Club._

I can look down through the windowed ridges and see the ecstatic youth raving like mad. I can sure-as-Azar feel the pounding music through the rooftop below me.

But I choose not to.

I simply stand at the rooftop's ledge.

Staring out across the dark-laden City.

The stars and the moonlight overhead.

The villainous tranquility of it all.

It suddenly strikes me…..a funny thought…..

_What I was to be the only hero of this City?_

With my powers and with my meditation……

……_could I truly protect it on my own?_

Would I need Beast Boy and his goofy, flailing antics?

Would I need Cyborg and his overinflated tech?

Or would I actually need Starfire's power if it meant the unpredictability of her emotions and impulsiveness?

"…………."

I sigh to myself….but not so much with defeat as it is with contemplation………_and longing._

I sure would do well without Robin's anal insistence to beat the hide of a figurative dead horse in with his boot.

These thoughts flow through my head.

And the naked quietness of the entire day…..

…..from the cold, echoing hallways of the Tower…..

……..to the empty screens of the Titan's computer…….

………..to the barren malevolence of the City streets……….

…………..it all comes to circle around my head and lift the scales from my eyes.

And I can't tell if I'm blinded or if I'm seeing some well-known truth illuminated in a fresh new brilliance.

But…..it dawns on me, just as the evening triumphs. The night. The darkness. The silence.

_I am a one-girl army._

I can be stronger than all of the other Titans combined.

And……

And I'm holding back.

I turn.

I look down through the windows of the Soto rooftop.

I see the teenagers inside.

Raving.

Dancing.

Writhing about.

Laughing, smiling, chatting.

_Living……_**feeling**.

I suddenly wrap the folds of my blue robe tighter about myself.

I shudder.

_But……_

But there is a very good reason……**why**_……I am holding back._

A cold wind.

It threatens to blow off my robe's hood.

So I cling to it.

Hiding my face.

Hiding.

_I'll always have to hold back._

I mustn't forget that.

No matter what the excuse.

So it is with a sigh.

And so it is with a distracting, low-voiced hum….

…..that I take off from the warehouse rooftop, turn about, and head back towards the Tower.

Blending in with the night.

…

…

I return to the Tower.

I return to my room.

I take a shower.

Dry off.

Slip into a nightgown…

…and trudge to bed.

_Yes……_

_  
_…..I am going to bed early.

But suddenly, I don't feel like sleeping in so late in the day anymore.

As a matter of fact, I don't feel like feeling anything anymore.

Sleep is simply time travel.

I'll fall into the covers, conk out, and awake in another world.

And maybe…..I'll be more of a Titan in that world…..

….and less like some self-indulgent sorceress.

I turn out the light.

Pull the covers over me.

And sigh.

Resisting to dream.

Resisting to dream……

_Goodbye, Sunday._


	43. Mon

﻿

**Monday**

I wake up early.

And despite the fact that the sun's barely up over the horizon…

….I feel rested.

I feel satiated.

And it seems awkward and funny that I should be griping or moping over something that plagued me in the morning.

And it dawns upon me that even I have the gift of daily rebirth, _so to speak._

But just now….thoughts of the Soto Dance Club waft up into my fair head.

And I think of the bodies churning.

Dancing and raving….when they're actually screaming and quivering in pain.

And I realize that I am looking toward the future.

_I have no reason to._

Not now.

Not………when this Tower is so empty.

I take a breath.

I get up out of bed.

I pad across the bedroom in my nightgown and gaze out at the cold, blue morning of the City.

The Bay.

The ripple-effect of time and life.

_Not when it's……so quiet……_

A chill runs through me.

A happy chill.

Cold like the glass that I'm leaning a pale hand against.

But jolting…..reawakening……_rebirthing._

I summon a small, hopeful smile.

_So quiet._

So serene.

………what am I doing inside this gloomy room?

…

…

I don jeans, a t-shirt, and a loose blue jacket.

I emerge on the rooftop of the Tower.

I sit at the edge, cross legged.

Soon I fold my fingers in meditative poses, levitate, and center myself.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos……..Azarath Metrion Zinthos…….Azarath Metrion Zinthos……."

Sooner than I know it….

The Sun is rising.

Almost as if I am summoning it.

The warmth….

The touch of bright, yellow rays….

It all touches me.

Fills me.

And takes control of the center that I had just found, cleared, and refilled.

And all of the cold of the gloomy night and my Azar-forsaken room go screaming into oblivion.

And I feel………….pacified, again.

_Silly girl._

All you needed to do……

Was meditate.

I open my eyes.

Squinting the violet orbs against the rising hot circle of the Sun.

The Bay starts to glitter.

The gray towers of the City gleam and shine.

And all around me is fresh, fresh, fresher air….

_Do I………want to giggle?_

The Tower is empty.

I'm alone.

I'm serene.

_Yes……Yes, I want to giggle._

"Hrmmmm…….I'm hungry like I wouldn't believe…….."

…

…

I have only tried making myself pancakes twice in my life.

On both occasions, I had managed to survive by the skin of my intestines.

That's why I'm fishing through the refrigerator to find something microwaveable.

And I just know that Beast Boy _had_ to have left something in here.

Or Cyborg.

Or even Starfire…..though her favorite cuisines are either inedible or not worthy of the embrace of human eyes.

My hand rummages through the refrigerator…..then the freezer.

And I sigh.

_There is plenty for me to eat here._

But……

I gaze forlornly at the yogurt cases.

The salad…the herbal tea….

The makings of grits and potato salad.

I close the refrigerator.

I fold my arms….._or am I hugging myself?_

A gurgle in my stomach….

….and I suddenly think:

_There is plenty for me to eat here………but suddenly everything that I am used to eating is not very……appealing to me……_

I gaze to the side.

Towards the dishwasher.

The surface is a polished silver.

It shows my profile in reflection—however distorted—in all my thin, thin, petite, thin glory.

And I bite my lip….softly…..

_Have I never……ever had an _**appetite**_ before?_

Silence.

That peaceful silence.

Now it is haunting me again—but somehow I almost….._crave_ the direction this is now going.

_Would it hurt to………eat something that I would enjoy for once?_

I took a deep breath.

My eyes narrow….

_Hmmmmm……_

………'_enjoy'……_

A beat.

I blink.

"I suppose there's no….mmmm…..h-harm in that…," I drone to myself.

_Right._

No harm at all.

But……

_Still--_

I cringe.

I run a hand through my blue strands of hair.

Nervously.

Pensively….

_What would it look like for me to be caught doing that?_

It wouldn't look nice……would it?

"……………."

_But then again, who's looking?_

I gaze at the rest of the Main Room.

The emptiness.

The vacancy…….of _Titans._

"Why can't I just……..b-be selfish for once?"

Silence…………..

The corner of my lips curve.

_Why, indeed?_

…

…

"_What's that, Raven?"_ Robin asks. His face is on the monitor. Cyborg can be seen behind him, operating on a piece of the T-Ship somewhere along the Eastern Docks of Steel City. _"I didn't catch you—"_

"……..," I blink at the screen. "Uhhhhh……" I stand still, trying not to fidget. My hands hide in jacket sleeves behind my back as my violet eyes trail the side. I clear my throat and neutrally inquire: "I was…..wondering if I could….erm….ask you—the Titan Leader—for permission to leave the Tower…."

_"Huh? 'Leave' the Tower?"_

"……you know….," I shifted my feet some. I clenched my jaw.

_"………………,"_ Robin stared at me. Eyemask thin in curiosity.

I shrug. I gestured with a thin wrist. "G-Go 'out'."

Cyborg immediately stops what he's doing in the background and looks 'my way'.

Robin leans his head to the side. He blinks under his mask. He gazes back at Cyborg.

Cyborg scratches the human part of his head.

Robin looks back at me through the monitor. _"Uhm…..Sure, Raven! But…..you know—"_

"What?"

He gestures with a green glove. _"You didn't really have to ask."_

I blink. "I didn't?"

_"You're watching over the Tower, girl!"_ Cyborg walks up. Grinning. _"Not in prison, ya know!"_

"Uhhh…..but I thought—"

"_Thought what?"_ Robin asks.

"Well, with you giving me the order to go on patrol last night—which was rather fruitless by the way, no crime is hitting our town as of late—I kinda sorta thought you wanted me on a regimented schedule and—"

"_Raven, you're not some toddler. You can go out of the Tower and be outside anytime you please,"_ Robin smiles. He then fidgets and scratches the back of his neck. _"It's just that—uhhh……"_

I narrow my violet eyes suspiciously. "Just **what**?" I can empathically sense his awkwardness from _here_.

"_Well……I never really thought----that is to say, I didn't put into consideration that—"_

Cyborg shoves Robin out of the way. THWOOSH!

_"YAAAH!"_

"_What the Boy Blunder is tryin' to say……,"_ Cyborg winked. _"……you're not one to go out on the Town. We all kinda expected you to stay in your little hermit shell all week, so it didn't occur to us to give you any specific instructions. Got it?"_

I bite my lip. "Erhm….."

"_Hehehehe……poor widdle Raven's got da CABIN FEVER!"_ Cyborg leans in suggestively towards the communicator camera. _"Don't tell me you cracked already………"_

"Cracked?"

"_Face it, girl. With us gone from the Tower, even YOUR reclusive life has gone all out DULL! You're lookin' for things to do!"_

I fold my arms and frown. "Do not….be ridiculous," I spit. "I am not 'cracking' over any of the sort."

"_Heheheheh……suuuuure you are—"_

"I'm just hungry!"

_"Hungry?"_

"……….uhm….," I push a strand of stubborn blue out of the way. The edges of my pale cheeks are rosy. "Y-Yes……just hungry……"

_"………huh…………,"_ Cyborg blinks. A pause…..then he smiles. _"Well, if it's a to-go you're looking through……feel free to use a drive thru!"_ He gestured with his fingers. _"There's a blue card on the computer console of the Main Room that pops out upon DNA signature contact of any of the Titans. It fits into the ignition slot of my baby. Feel free to give the T-Car a spin if you want to get your head out of the Tower's gutter!"_

I did a double-take. "Uhm….Cyborg?"

"_What?"_

"…………have you run into Brother Blood in Steel City yet?"

"_No. Why?"_

"Because I think he's controlling your minds…..," I murmur.

"_Hah hah hah! Lighten up, girl! Out of all us Titans, I trust in you to take care of the T-Car. You're not as reckless as Robin, clumsy as Beast Boy or…………v-vehicle unfriendly as Starfire. Just don't take the T-Car to any underground circuit races, and we'll be cool as frost. Got it, cutie?"_

"Uhm….wow. Th-Thanks, Cyborg…..I suppose I should tha------Wait….," My eyes flash an angry bright gray as I hiss demonically at the screen with hair strands levitating. **"Did you just call me 'cutie'**?"

_"Whoops? Heh heh……I-I'm out of here!"_

"**Grrrrrrr—"**

"_So long and safe eating, _**cutie**. _Snkkkkt-heh-heh-heh-hehhhh---"_

**BLIP!**

The screens vanishes, and Cyborg's and Robin's faces with it.

I clench my fists…….relax them……and exhale.

A sigh.

"…………mmm……feh….," I straighten my hair and calm my nerves. "I'll kill him later."

And still….I falter.

And slowly….

Slowly……

I turn about.

And gaze at the computer station…..

……….where the key quietly resides.

"………………"

…

…

The garage.

I stand at one end.

Dressed in a blue sweatjacket with an even bluer hood hanging down behind my neck.

Gray jeans.

Sneakers…….which I am mostly likely wearing for the first time since Starfire made me buy them.

I stare at the blue and silver monstrosity that is Cyborg's Baby.

Its gargantuan 'fragility'.

A vehicle that could make or break me in one turn of the wheel.

I hold the blue card up in my pale fingers.

I glance at it.

Fidgeting……inside.

'_Lighten up, girl! Out of all us Titans, I trust in you to take care of the T-Car.'_

I take a deep breath.

Walking forward….bravely.

"I am…….only going out…….f-for food……"

_Beep-Beep!_

The T-Car unlocks within proximity of the card key.

I inhale lightly and open the side door.

_Click._

I linger there….staring at the inviting driver's seat…..the darklit, leather-interior.

"I……d-do…..remember how to do this……right?"

A beat…….

_It was……a few months after I entered this dimension that Robin taught me how to drive._

My fingers nervously twitch.

_That was over a year ago………_

"Nnnnngh….."

I glance back at the stairwell leading up from the garage.

I consider going back upstairs.

Enslaving myself for the umpteenth to boring, repetitive helpings of salad, yogurt, vitamins, and the meat substitute that I've always enjoyed _but never told Beast Boy because he wouldn't understand and—plus—I wouldn't hear the end of it._

"Nnngh….what am I doing?" I mutter to myself. "Going out…..j-just isn't _me_……"

Silence.

_But then again……I'm alone here. In the Tower. In the City._

I'm alone…………

…………_and I may never get an opportunity like this again._

"…………….," I smile ever so slightly. "Alice in Impulse-land….."

I slink into the T-Car and squat myself down in the driver's seat.

I shut the door.

I reach a shaking hand and slip the blue card in.

_Whurrrrr-Click!_

I reach my hand to the ignition switch and—

**VREEEEEE-VRMMMMMMMM!.!.!**

I jolt.

Sweatdropping.

Easing….easing….easing down…..

_What's with boys and big things that rumble?_

"Okay……..okay……..o-okay….."

I buckle up.

I grip the wheels.

I scrunch back in the seat.

I can't see over the dashboard.

"…………..uh…….y-yeah……"

I look around me.

I find two levers between the walls and floor of the interior and the seat. I pull on one.

_PHWISSSsssssssh!_

I lower down even further.

"N-No…..uhm………," I twist the other way—

_WHURRR!_

I slide back.

My temple pulses.

I clear my throat, calm my impatience, and twist the other way and pull---

**PHWISSSSH!**

I rocket towards the ceiling--

"Nnngh—For the love of Azar!" I slam my fist against the lever before my blue skull is crushed against the ceiling—

FWUMP!

"……..," I blink.

I can now see well over the dashboard.

And the wheels is within comfortable grasp.

"……….y-yeah……"

I feel the contours of the wheel.

As the vehicle's engine rumbles, I reach a hand down to the stick.

"Okay……um……_'forward'_?"

_J-Jerk! Jerk!_

It won't budge.

"………uhm…..h-huh?"

_Jerk!_

"What's wrong…."

_J-Jerk!_

"….with this thing?"

_Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!_

"……," I glance down. "Oh….r-right. The clutch."

I press on it—

_Jerk!_

**VRMMMM!**

I rocket forward.

I realize that my foot must be pressed hard onto the gas pedal.

But that's not what horrifies me.

What horrifies me is that I'm about to drive Cyborg's prized vehicle twenty-five miles per hour straight into the huge, metal, garage doors which _I have not thought to open before exiting!_

I gasp.

Violet eyes wide.

I grip the wheel tightly and gnash my teeth with eyes glowing a bright, concentrated gray.

"Azarath…Metrion…**ZINTHOS!"**

A black portal opens up magically in the hanging garage door.

**FLASSSSH!**

The T-Car flies through it.

**VRMMMMMM!**

An explosion of daylight.

I swerve out onto the driveway.

I grit my teeth, shift back, and turn at the wheel before I can slam helplessly into a crag of rock bluffs.

_SCREEEE-EEEEEEE-EEEEEEECH!_

The vehicle spins….spins….spins…..and—

"B-Brakes! I-I forgot!"

_Clamp!_—(both feet).

**SCREEECH!**

The vehicle lurches to a stop.

I stop spinning….but my eyes don't.

I shake my blue head and slap my skull with a palm to stop the circular motion.

I shudder and slump back in the seat as the engine idles.

"Nnnnngh……th-this isn't going to work…."

"_Zzzzt! Work? Working optimally."_

"………….?" I crane my neck.

A small computer screen on the dashboard is dancing a sound wave line.

An artificial intelligence voice speaks: _"Does the driver of this vehicle wish to input the automated road assistant?"_

"………..uhhhh……," I drone in numb confusion. "Wh-What are you, exactly?"

"_I am the T-Car Automated Road Assistant. I detect that your driving proficiency is lacking today, Mr. Stone."_

"Uhm…..I-I'm not Cyborg---"

"_Would you like me to take over vehicular handing of the car to your desired destination, Mr. Stone?"_

"……….," my lips curve helplessly. _Well……now this is promising._ "Y-Yeah……sure. Uhm…..l-let's go somewhere….to eat…."

"_I can most assuredly pick a random course of driving patterns to occupy 'cruising time' within the center of this urban locale, but it is up to the passenger to choose the specific destination."_

"Oh…..um…..," I run a hand through my blue strands. _What do I want to eat……today, now that I'm 'alone'?_ I feel my stomach gurgle. I inhale and look out the windshield towards the gray City looming beyond. _Azar above……do I even _**know** _what is or what is not a place to eat in this City?_

"_I can make suggestions towards various locations of restaurants and diners."_

"……..oh…..in th-that case…..what about something…..," I stroke my pale chin. A beat. I glance at the dashboard. "……Chinese?"

"_Dynasty Buffet, 1.7 miles from here. Geisha Palace, 1.9 miles from here, Chinese Specialt—"_

"Uh…..the f-first place is okay," I manage awkwardly.

"_Dynasty Buffet?"_

"Yeah…..sure."

"_Estimated time of travel, twenty-five minutes."_

I lie back in the chair. I smirk and fold my arms behind my head. "Yeah…..you do that…."

The car rolls along on its own, driven by Cyborg's masterfully programmed artificial intelligence.

I glance up through a sunroof.

I see clouds…

Storm clouds…….

Gradually turning grayer and grayer.

"………mmm……," I murmur and shut my eyes gently. "……wonderful weather….."

…

…

Across the City.

Into Downtown.

The T-Car takes me to the commercial district.

The shopping malls.

The restaurants….the theatres…

For some reason, this City looks horrendously new to me.

The industrial squalls…the shipyards….the junkyards, I all seem to know like the back of my hand from numerous villainous battles.

But these places….

_Places of enjoyment…………_

"Heh…..so this is what people do," I murmur to the air.

"_Snkkkt—Do you desire us to stop, Mr. Stone?"_

"Uhm…..no. Keep going to the restaurant. And I'm not Mister—"

"_We are approaching the plaza of the Dynasty Buffet. Presently searching for an open parking space………"_

"Uhhh…thanks….," I glance out the windows. Calm violet eyes. Glancing at the light drizzle coming down from the edges of the clouds. The damp gray sidewalks. The people huddled under shop fronts and awnings. Young people. Families. Chatty conversations behind the curtain of rain. faces….

_School must be out or something._

Or maybe………

_Maybe this is just what Monday mornings are like._

I don't know……

**Vrmmmmm!**

_"A parking spot has been located. The Dynasty Buffet is forty meters down along Henderson Street."_

_Wow, a regular chauffer._

"Thanks. I…..um……will take it from here, I guess," I shrug.

"_By all means, Mr. Stone."_

I clench my jaw….

The T-Car rolls to a stop neatly in a parking space. The engine cuts off.

I pop the blue card out.

I unbuckle.

I step out of the T-Car—sighing—and walk out into the gray drizzle of the cool afternoon.

My hands in my sweat jacket's pockets.

"Huh…..well…….," I smile ever so slightly to myself and walk out into the cloud-filtered sunlight. My blue strands of hair brushed by the breeze. "……this isn't so bad---"

I freeze.

"…………….."

I'm staring at the sidewalk.

And well over two-dozen random citizens are all staring back at me.

At my petite, pale-skinned body.

At the T-Car parked behind me.

At the fair head of hair exposed to the sky.

Blue strands blowing.

My chakra stone naked and glinting.

"……………..," I bite my lip.

They all stare. They all blink.

Then…….

"_Whoah!"_

"_R-Raven?"_

"Isn't that the Titan Magician?"

"Raven?.?.?"

"It's Raven!"

"Dude, check it out--!"

I spin around, hoist the blue hood over my head, and engulf my body in black energy just in time to—

**FLASH!**

….I teleport my petite self back into the T-Car, jam the blue card in, and practically hiss into the dashboard: "Okay…Hit it…..**Hit it!**"

_"Snkkkt—Please define your command, Mr. Stone—"_

"Get met some place that _isn't here!_ Quickly!" I pant. "……and don't call me by Cyborg's last na—"

_**SCREEEECH!**_

I scrunch back into my chair, wincing.

_VRMMMMM!_

The T-Car roars down the road before the curious cluster of fanboys and fangirls can catch up to the heated aluminum on wheels.

I pant….pant…pant……and run a hand across my brow.

"Nnnngh…..stupid….."

I frown.

_Totally forgot about………_**that**_ detail._

_I swear to Azar………_

The masses are asses.

"_Snkkkt……I sense an elevated heartrate. Are you all right, Mr. Stone?"_

"It's called **estrogen**. Can you do a scan for that?"

"_Snkkkt—Does not compute—"_

"Of course not. Never mind. Can you…….uhm…..park us somewhere less populated with morons?"

"_Please define 'populated with morons'."_

"Like……..a parking space that isn't very conspicuous."

"_Might a parking garage serve sufficiently?"_

I blink.

_Smart car……_

"Uh……yeah. Th-That sounds great."

The T-Car pulls us into a parking garage and starts ascending tier after tier of floors.

And just as I see the first of many parking spots available on the third level—an idea hits me.

I lean forward: "Uhm….'T-Car', head up towards the top floor and park there."

_"Are you certain, Mr. Stone? The programming presently assigns me to find the parking space closest to your destination—"_

"I'm certain. Just park on the top tier somewhere "

"_Understood. Fulfilling your input."_

The T-Car rolled up and up and up.

I sat back.

Taking a deep breath.

_Is this worth it?_

_If I run such a risk of being………recognized?_

_What am I doing with my day anyways?_

I blink in thought.

_I have no unearthly clue exactly what I am doing with my day._

And that……

That's what makes it special.

The T-Car takes me to the top tier.

Parking slowly…..where the sun shines.

And—just as I expected—there isn't a single other vehicle parked up here on top of the garage building. Unless a low-flying helicopter was looking suicidally closely to the buildingtops, nobody in the know would see the T-Car where it now resided.

I can walk out….and 'enter the world' in piece.

And maybe even…..obscured.

The engine cuts.

The car is silent.

I exhale: "Whewwww…."

I leaned back in the seat.

Relax…..

And close my eyes…………………..

**Beep! Beep! Beep!**

"Aaack!" I suddenly gasp. A blast of telekinesis rocks the T-Car as I instinctively reach up and hang onto the Jesus Bar. "……………."

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The communicator of the T-Car again chimes.

I groan.

Snap out of it….

…..and flip a switch to turn on the communicator.

"Raven here. What is it?"

"_Raven? This is Robin."_

"Hi, Robin. Is there something the matter--?"

"_Hardly. I just wanted to contact you to let you know that the Titans and I are starting our investigations and searches of the City."_

"………all right."

"_In short, we will be too busy tracking down Brother Blood to effectively communicate with you on a regular basis."_

"I understand."

"_You may be receiving some calls from other people at the Tower, though……"_

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean—"

"_I've been trying to get in contact with a few friends of ours. Aqualad……BumbleBee……Speedy—"_

"What for?"

"……………"

"Robin?"

"_Nothing's confirmed as of yet. But we may be needing their help. Real soon."  
_

"………interesting."

"_I'll brief you and the other Titans on it sooner than naught. But right now, the four of us need to go into action. You'll be okay without contacting us for the next few days, right Raven?"_

"Uhmmmm….."

"_You think you can handle that?"_

I look around.

I'm in the T-Car.

Atop a parking garage.

In a drizzling, overcast afternoon.

I'm hungry for Chinese…..

……and I'm wearing jeans.

"………………….y-yeah….," I softly smile. Ever so slightly. "I think……I-I think I'm covered……"

"_Good. Take care."_

"You too, uh….Robin."

"_And Raven?"_

"Yes?"

Silence…..then—through the crackling speakers—a slightly off-serious voice of geniality that I don't often hear from Robin.

"……………_don't be afraid to—ya know………"_

"…..what?"

"……_relax. Don't be afraid to relax."_

I blink.

I squint my eyes at the dashboard radio.

I say: "Robin…..who do you think I am?"

"_Snkkkkkkkkkkt."_

He's gone.

I sigh.

I step out of the T-Car.

I draw the hood of the robe over my head…and enjoy the cooling drizzle as I march across the rooftop towards the stairwell.

_In fact……_

Who do **I**_ think I am?_

And I can't seem to keep my lips straight today….

…

…

I realize something.

I really need to re-acquaint myself with Asian culture.

Because I do not know what half of this stuff that I'm eating is called.

I do not know what it is called….and yet….

….it doesn't really matter.

It all tastes….so good.

And _different._

I have made two total trips to the buffet bar.

My first round was with the familiar bits.

Rice.

Chicken.

Rolls.

My second trip delved into…..more 'noodly territory'.

I am sitting at a table at the far side of the interior.

Alone.

The table is fairly large for just a party of one.

But the place isn't nearly as cramped as I imagined it would be.

It must be the time of day I have chosen to come here.

I spot a few families.

Some businessmen on the opposite sides of the place.

A few couples chatting in languages that I can't decipher.

And….

This obscurity.

This confusion….the namelessness of everything surrounding me so suddenly…..

……it feels strangely comforting.

Still, I eat slowly.

Ladylike.

Then again, I have always been a light eater.

Not necessarily 'dainty'…but hardly the ravenous monster Tamaranian Starfire can be on occasion.

I've often gauged people by the way they eat similar to how they talk.

Beast Boy's mouth is as often inhaling food as it is exhaling words.

Starfire's exotic taste matches her foreign awkwardness.

Cyborg is pretty cut and dry.

And Robin…..is hard to spot eating, a loner in his sense.

And myself?

Well….

I'm eating today.

Eating a lot, I suppose.

It feels……..dumbing.

With moderation, I suppose that I like it.

I suppose…..

I pause in the middle of a helping of dried broccoli.

I look up.

Violet eyes shaded.

I still have my blue sweatjacket's hood up.

Covering my head.

It must be an awkward site indeed for the other patrosn.

But…..

But I would rather it be this than ravenous attention.

But as I stare at the various occupants….

And I hear the garbled, strange words….

I put my fork down.

I gently….pensively raise my pale fingers up…..

…..and lower my hood.

And.

Nothing…..

People see me.

But take no 'notice'.

And impose no pointing fingers or shouts.

Not even when my blue strands of hair fall out of place….

Or when my chakra stone glitters with a nearby, electric light…..

I smile.

_This is……_

……really nice……

I take a deep breath.

And return to my food.

Satiated….satiated….

…

…

After 'lunch'….

I leave the restaurant.

And it's raining.

People crowd the sidewalks.

Forced to talk with each other.

Jarred out of their midday routines.

Relieved….in a sense….

Mindful only of their wandering minds and wandering voices.

I shuffle through it all.

_Yes,_ I have the hood over my head again.

It obscures my profile as I walk through the thick crowd of citizenry.

A rainy mist rises from the soggy streets and kisses my cheeks….

As I stroll….stroll…….stroll…….

Taking deep breaths.

Inhaling the moistures.

Singing between the heated bodies of those present.

The soft….gentle melody of voices mixing into confusing ambiance.

I'm drowning in the thick of it…..and I haven't been pounced on.

And I haven't been harassed or annoyed or asked to play stinkball or to engage in the 'braiding maneuvers' of hair…..

_I can meditate to this._

Wow……why haven't I felt it before?

I close my eyes and walk along the sidewalk in daring blindness for a few seconds.

As if I can inhale/absorb everything.

_So this is what Daylight is………_

I reopen my eyes.

My lips curve as I press on ahead….

…

…

Inside a Borders.

I linger besides the Poetry section.

I glance through a paperback CliffNotes for Edgar Allen Poe.

I bite my lip.

I slide the CliffNotes back.

_If ever I'm going to laugh……_

……_it's sure as Azar not going to be in _**public**.

I turn around slowly.

Hands fidgeting….meeting in my sweat jacket's pocket.

I stare out at the shoppers….the readers……the coffee drinkers.

Teenagers.

Adults.

Senior citizens.

Random branches of the population…

They mill about.

Sitting in chairs with magazines.

With novels.

With mangas.

Quiet.

Reading.

Engulfed….

_Quiet………_

I take a deep breath.

I fidget where I stand. Disguised. Hooded. Unnoticeable.

_So……_

There's hope for the human race after all……

I reach a hand in under my hood and straighten the stubborn strand of blue.

My violet eyes glance aside.

_I……_

I-I really want that platinum hardback edition of Kushiel's Dart………

_But………_

I bite my lip.

_I've……self-indulged enough as it is._

I take a deep breath.

I look around at the interior of the huge book store.

_Being in a place like this……_

The rain……

_The food……_

_It's all just a _**feeling**…..

_I don't need to buy anything._

I shudder.

_Even though I………really want that book._

I sigh.

I pull my hands down to my side…..crack the bottom knuckles…..and march forward.

I think about the rain outside.

The cool, gray tranquility of it all.

The need to sleep.

Sleepwalking.

Time traveling….meditating….moving all at once.

_It's positively……_

……_intoxicating._

I blink from under my shadowing hood.

Passing by book shelves and comic racks where a few teenagers gathered.

Towards the door.

The brightness….the softness….

The touch of cool air.

I sigh….

_How can……How can feeling _**this**_ peaceful be a crime?_

_  
How can it?_

I pause….just moments before I could possibly exit the establishment.

Fidgeting.

I must look like a shoplifter.

My eyes thin.

My lips purse.

_Heh………_

I turn around…swiveling.

I walk straight back to the fantasy section.

_Curse you, Jacqueline Carey………_

I wander past two boys and a girl huddled around a local heroes comic.

"Wow…..they did a good job drawing Robin!"

"Robin? Pfft—Look at Raven!"

"God, she's so hot!"

"Heh….I wonder if she's _naturally blue haired……_" the guy teen winked.

"Heh heh heh."

I walk past them, shuffling.

And a voice escapes from underneath my hood. "Not too far from the truth…."

All three gaze at me. Blinking. "…………………."

And I'm gone.

…

…

A courtyard.

Surrounded by fast food restaurants.

Kids play in the puddles.

Giggles and splashes.

Mothers chatting on the sidelines.

In the distance, college kids playing hack-a-sack.

I stand in a corner.

Leaning back up against a concrete wall between shops.

My hands stuffed in my sweat jacket's pocket.

The plastic Borders bag hanging from my wrist.

Staring silently out from under my hood.

Quiet.

Watching.

"…………………………"

…

…

I take a detour.

I meander around the docksides of the southern boardwalk.

The sun is finally starting to lower.

The rains have parted, and instead a gray mass of clouds murmur overhead.

Rays of scattered sunshine bleed down onto the Bay.

The gray waves rolling, crashing, foaming.

The seagulls fluttering and flapping overhead.

Joggers and runners on the beach.

Couples strolling on the dryer sand.

A person or two with a cell phone.

Two kids, a father, a dog, and a Frisbee.

One brave soul trying to surf.

Cold mist.

Cold mist, and warm adrenaline.

Walking…..Walking….

Absorbing.

…

…

I stroll down a boardwalk.

My jacket warming me against the ocean-borne breeze of the Bay.

Dangling the beloved book behind me in its back.

Strolling…..pacing….lingering….

I approach the end.

Slowly, I approach the end.

The last length of dock stretching over the frothing waves rests before me.

I reach the wooden railing.

I set the plastic bag down on the wooden planks beside my feet.

I anchor it with a shoe.

I lean forward….arms crossed…

And….when nobody's looking…..

….I toss my head back.

My blue hood falls.

My hair blows freely in the end, for what short lengths they can muster.

I close my eyes.

I inhale the Ocean.

The salt of the Earth.

The endless womb of nature.

I exhale.

I lean forward into the moisture.

Staring with thin, sleepy eyes into the froth churning below me.

And I breathe.

And I breathe…..

And I breathe………….

…

…

I spend an hour into the sunset sitting on a wooden bench.

Watching fishermen along the dock.

Roller blading families….

High schoolers joking and bouncing around.

A seagull that perches across from me, stares at my person for the full minute that I stare back at it, then flies away.

Meandering winds.

Streams of salt air that blow at my exposed hair and face.

And….

And I marvel at the oblivion that I've achieved.

The only oblivion that I could ever ask for.

One in which the world continues on without me.

Happy.

Untouched.

And without fear.

And it feels good.

It feels so good—even in the bliss of momentary ignorance—to _believe._

I breathe.

The salt air.

The oscillating cold and warmth of it all.

I can almost _believe_…..

_Believe_ that I am not what I am.

That I am only a girl.

That I am only a teenager.

And that I am only as dangerous as I would ever dare to let myself be.

The Titans are gone.

The Tower is on vacation.

And as far as I know…

As far as I care….

'Raven' is on vacation too.

I inhale.

Hugging myself…..hugging the book to my chest that I just bought.

Not caring to look at it…or register it.

Just…….

Drifting.

"………………"

_Who is this girl underneath……anyways?_

Silence.

Ocean…..Ocean…..

Sighs.

I stand up.

_I should really……_

_  
Really……learn to stop thinking so much._

_At least for now._

At least for tonight.

_There is nothing wrong with being selfish._

Nothing wrong in being selfish……tonight.

I tell myself this…

…as I stroll off towards the nearest store.

…

…

A supermarket.

I stand in the checkout line.

It isn't very busy.

A teenage sales clerk is ringing my items through and bagging them.

She finishes and reads me the total: "Okay, that will be $33.49"

"Mmmhmmm…," I hand out some cash.

While finishing the transaction, she glances up at me. My hood is down and there is plenty of my iconographic face to see. Naturally, she squints her eyes….brightens….and points: "Say….a-aren't you familiar?" She smiles helplessly. "I've seen your face…."

I shrug.

I look at her calmly.

"Perhaps you have…..perhaps you have not…"

She hands me my change and receipt….then my bag.

She gasps: "Omigawd! I know! Aren't you Raven? Raven of the Teen Titans?"

I take the bag from her.

My lips curve somewhat.

"No……Not really….."

Her eyebrow raises. "Huh?"

I'm already gone.

…

…

I walk along the boardwalks and beach—slowly—in a roundabout return to the T-Car.

I'm humming to myself.

Much like I did yesterday.

Only now, it's louder.

More pronounced.

Lifting in the air towards the patchwork stars peering down every other spot through the clouds.

It is only a couple of minutes before I realize another melody is invading the air through the waves of the local humming coming from my throat.

I silence myself.

I slow down my pacing.

I gaze left.

Violet eyes peering through the growing darkness.

I squint.

I spot…..a fire.

A campfire on the beach.

Surrounding the bonfire, teenagers gather.

All shapes and sizes.

And they are…….enjoying themselves.

Talking…chatting up a storm.

Young couples giggling and resting against each other. Gently drifting to the music.

One writing in a journal.

Others nodding….meditating….listening as a central figure strums at a guitar.

A sandy-brown haired young man with an acoustic guitar.

Gently….rhythmically going at it.

A folk song.

Paul Simon, I think….

_I hear………_

"…………………..," I gaze at the group.

The camaraderie.

The warmth.

And…..for as soothing an image it is…

It awakens something momentarily shuddering and coldly sharp in me.

And I vaguely remember the voices I heard coming from the communicators in the Tower and T-Car.

But….

But I move myself along.

Humming.

Trucking the bag of stuffs with me….

Not giving myself to remember any further.

…

…

When I'm in the T-Car, riding home via the digital chauffer….

I am still plagued with residual memories.

Faces.

Voices.

And I know I shouldn't fear the familiarity.

But I push it away anyways.

_I just want this moment._

May this moment……last a while.

Not 'forever'……but……

_A _**while**……

The T-Car stops at a light. An intersection.

I feel the steady thumping of something through the body of the vehicle I'm in.

A heavy, continuous bass.

Vibrating….rattling the rear view mirror.

"…………," I glance right….through the passenger's side window.

I see a warehouse beyond. A warehouse with a thick group of evening-goers crowding the front outside. The Soto Dance club. The lights flickering. The music pounding.

I stare at it.

I contemplate….only for a second.

But I don't move a muscle.

_Yeah………_

Let's not **push** _it………_

I let the T-Car roll along……

And take me home.

…

…

I arrive at the Tower.

And….

I don't waste time, but I take my time.

I retreat to my bedroom.

I take my newly bought novel.

I go into my washroom.

I fill the tub with warm, near-steaming water.

I place around and about the half-dozen candles I just bought.

With incense.

And aroma.

Vanilla…..sandalwood….

I light them.

I fill the tub with a milky lavender bath.

I usher in a CD player. Three-disc-changer.

I put on some Rasputina….some Tori Amos…..Depeche Mode…..

I turn off the overhead lights.

In the flickering amber aura of the scented candles, I disrobe then slowly submerge myself into the heating….soothing bath….

…..with a sigh.

I sink in.

I lie back.

I inhale.

I close my eyes.

I drift………………….

I slowly open my eyes.

I emerge a pale wrist from the silken bath.

I flex my fingers…summon a black, translucent glow…

I levitate the book over and turn to a favorite chapter.

The novel floats telekinetically before me, pages flipping.

One by one.

As my violet eyes lazily….liquidly drip across the words.

And as I read….and as I breathe….and as I _drift_….

….I reach a hand out.

I take one piece out of a batch of german chocolates that I picked up at the store.

_Or……_

_Are they Swiss?_

Austrian?

I don't care.

I take one small bite at a time.

Nibbling.

Swallowing.

Reclining.

Reading.

Soaking.

Absorbing.

"Mmmmmmm…….."

I take a moment to pause.

My eyes pleasantly closed.

I take a deep breath….warm and bubbly this time. Like something is boiling inside of me and rising to the surface higher and higher….at a slow and lava-creeping rate.

Some fires aren't made to be feared….

The gray day dwindles in and out of my mind.

The coolness melting away like ice exhaust to the warm lavender bath.

Lost in the steam…the aroma…

The flickering candles.

The cello and violin riffs in the backgrounds.

Voices whispersing…wailing….mourning and laughing….

Melodically.

Like the boy on the beach with the guitar.

The kids in the puddles in the courtyard.

The couples by the boardwalk.

The diners at the restaurant.

Those who mingled and drifted into happy, textual oblivion in the corners of the book store.

Like me. Then and there. The instaneity of it all….

_Ohh……_

I muse mentally to myself as I telekinetically flip a page…

Nibble on another chocolate….

And drift away….

_How can I not like Phedre?_

He's so……

_So…_

_So _**Phedre**_……_

I sigh.

The candles flicker.

I flip a page.

I drift.

Sometime into it….

Minutes?

Hours?

At least one CD ends and rolls into another---other than that, I have no bearing on the illusion of 'time'.

I lay the book down with my levitation.

And I rest back in the waters.

My head partially submerged.

My blue threads fanning out around me like an aquamarine halo against the lavender bath.

Strands half wet, half dry.

My nose gently inhaling.

My eyes close……aimed towards the ceiling….

I feel more now like I'm flying than ever a time I've taken to the air to chase down criminals.

And….

It's like I'm in another world.

This silly kingdom of spontaneous hedonism.

I don't deserve this.

_I don't care._

The Titans….

Those were who I was trying not to remember the voices of earlier in the ride home in the T-Car.

Not that I hate them.

Only……

I am always trying to escape them.

I am always trying to escape my 'friends', as I am always trying to escape _myself_.

Only now, _myself_ is exactly where I want to be.

Because in this loneliness.

This empty domain that I am suddenly afloat and aloft in……

It has become an oblivion.

A wasteland I can feed off of.

If even for its temporary nature its excusable…

….for its ridiculousness, it's redeemable.

And I'm redeemable.

For nobody sees me but myself.

And I am my best fortress.

And I am my best shield and buckler.

Fighting and struggling against and evil that none of my friends can ever understand.

Because……

_Because…………_

I don't tell them.

But, come to think of it.

Maybe I could do with not telling **myself**…..

For one night.

I smile pleasantly.

Awash with the scents and oils and music.

_Or……_

For one **week**_……_

I breathe………….in…………..slowly……….

_This isn't being selfish._

This is……

_  
This is 'taking a break'._

_After all……every Titan is entitled to that._

Are they not?

Though……I'm sure it is hard enough for me to imagine them taking breaks.

_  
Just as hard as it is for them to imagine me where I am right now and what I am doing._

Though……it isn't really any concern of them to know when I take baths.

_Er……yeah……_

I can't imagine a Starfire who interrupts her own smiling patterns.

Or a Cyborg who shuts his metallic parts off for the better part of a week.

How could Beast Boy ever be anything different than the predictable joker that he strives to achieve?

_And Robin………_

I swallow.

I take a deep breath and sink deeper….

……_Robin is an idealist._

An idea forged in might and mania and sweat.

After countless nights of leading us into battle……

Of looking after us.

Of looking after **me**…..

_How could he ever afford himself a break?_

How could he ever learn to relax?

To lie down?

To……retire………

To soften his muscles and simply………breathe………

To embrace a quieter side of himelf………shadowed and hidden…………

Elusive……taunting……………mischievous even………

And……

……__

And……for once……

_For once, not selfless……_

Not a selfless Robin at all…………

…

…

…

The bath lasts longer than I anticipated.

…

…

_Good night, Monday……_


	44. Tues

﻿

**Tuesday**

I wake up.

And I feel……

I feel like a fallen log grown over with vines.

Like I have been lying dead for a long, long time.

So beautifully and relaxingly dead.

I stir under the covers.

I sit my eyes.

Feeling the urge…..

The urge to…._smile?_

I blink tiredly….but easily.

I glance out the window of my bedroom.

The Sun is starting to come up.

I haven't slept in…..

And yet…..I'm not too early either.

_It's just………perfect……_

I sigh, hugging my knees to my chest.

I raise an eyebrow.

I bring my forearm to my nose.

I sniff.

"…………..?"

_I smell………good………_

"…………."

I shrug it off.

After a few dazed minutes, I get up and shuffle out of bed.

I walk across the amnesiac environment of my room.

I replace my nightgown with a bathrobe and set forth for the Main Room for a morning cup of tea and meditation.

But as I past by the bathroom--

I freeze.

I do a double-take.

I dash back and glance in….

Brushing aside a strand of blue hair nervously as I peer in….

…blinking my tired eyes awake.

"…….what in the name of Azar?"

The bathroom looks normal.

Normal, save for the long deep scar on opposite sides of the tile-walls.

Like….

Like the impact slashes of an uncontrolled, blast of black telekinesis.

"……………," I blink. And then….._it hits me. _"Oh……r-right……."

A beat.

My cheeks turn a rosy color.

I clear my throat, adjust my robe, turn about, and march out of the room.

_Well……_

I **smell good**_……_

That's all that matters………

…

…

"Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos……………Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos……..Azarath….Metrion…Zinthos….."

I hover before the window.

I levitate.

I meditate…..

Quietly…

Barely chanting…..

"Azarath……..Metrion……..Zinthos………"

**Beep! Beep! Beep!**

"…………..," I open one eye. I glance across the Main Room towards the computer station.

The big, bright text "BANK ROBBERY IN PROGRESS" flashes before my distant vision.

The Day suddenly is shaken.

The calmness of the sunrise breaks…..

"Hmmmmmm…..," I calmly put my feet down—one after the other—and flex my limbs. "All things are inevitable."

I am ready for them.

…

…

BANG! BANG!

A heavyset thug with dual pistols gives cover to the street as three of his buddies run out of the bank entrance with money bags over their shoulders.

A black getaway van waits for them in the center of the street as police sirens rise in the background.

They shout at each other to hurry up and make a mad dash for the van.

But just as soon as they touch the handles to the doors, the doors fall off.

CL-CLANK! CLANG! THUD!

They blink, surprised. Horrified.

Then…

CLAAAAAK! The van falls apart completely, severed into separate sections by severe slices of black energy talons.

The men gasp. They glance up…

I descend with a deceptively gentle billowing of my blue robe over my traditional leotard.

I gaze beyond them.

I am relaxed.

I am somewhere else….somewhere warm and distant….

Smelling like my arms smell. Smelling like last night.

I almost want to smile….

The men shout something. I don't really hear them. But I see them aim at me and madly fire. Like bursting flowers of amber from their pistols.

I exhale, lean back, and stretch a hand forward.

A black field of energy absorbs the bullets, warps back towards me, and flexes back out towards them.

The bullets explode and shatter the men with hot, lead dust.

They shout, scream, and drop the stolen money….attempting to run away from me.

I yawn.

With a slight curve to my lips I twist a wrist forward and ensnare their ankles in black talons.

They shout and try to claw themselves away on the pavement.

I glance around the street…looking at the shattered front of the bank, the getaway vehicle, the abandoned sidewalks, the approaching police cars.

I try to find a sufficient place to toss the men.

But I let it lay.

I take it easy and simply restrain the men until the police come.

And soon, all four cretins are accosted.

Handcuffed. Carted off. Dealt with.

Officials file into the bank to take a look at the men and women inside. Reassuring voices are cast about.

I don't realize how distracted I am until the last second.

An officer is talking directly to me. He's saying something. I can hear his words….but for some reason they vibrate past me. Thankfully, a part of me understands him and makes the rest of me nod. He smiles, salutes in some off-hand fashion, and goes to join in the examination of the former hostages.

I stand there for a few seconds. Numb. And although I know that I should be feeling exhilarated by the fact that I just 'saved the day' all on my petite own, it does not seem to change me much. The numbness. The trailing warmth and the smell. Everything inside and outside of me…..

…..is fading.

I take my first painful breath of the day….and swiftly lift myself up into the sky.

……

……

Standing on a rooftop, overlooking the City…

The world….

This plane of existence……

I touch upon the coarse surface of reality.

And I think of how all too quickly, everything dies out and everything fades away.

It's not a depressing thing. Or at least, it never has been for me.

But suddenly it seems all too rough and all too absurd and all too unquestionably numbing.

What exactly is this feeling?

It is so dreadfully _familiar_.

I feel like it has been with me straight out of my mother's womb.

Smelling of amniotic fluid and first breaths…

It haunts me, I suppose.

But has it always haunted me? And if so….has it always mattered?

I stand in the wind. The currents of the sky dip down and blow at my robe. My short blue hair. My squinting eyes.

I think about the softness of the day and night before. The gentleness of it all. The fragrant peace and serenity that is all too quickly fading. Turning stale and lukewarm and shapeless again.

I wouldn't think anything of it, usually. But for some reason—after last night—I feel like I am losing something. And I feel that there must be a reason for that loss.

Never in my life have I felt guilty for anything I have ever done. And yet, there has always been some shadowing presence of remorse. I could never quite put my finger on it…..mostly because it's always been so intangible of a thing. But last night, life suddenly became so unashamedly lucid. In the absence of my friends and—for the most part—in the absence of myself, I threw myself at the brick wall of life and dared myself to relax.

Now another brick wall is slamming towards me. One that I am all too familiar with and one that I am used to piling up against. But returning to it now is suddenly like returning to the Earth after a year up on MIR. I can't describe it. But there is one thing I realize.

Almost everything in my life is intangible.

And now that such a pattern has been broken…..I am feeling bad. _But why? And is there a reason to call this 'bad'?_

I take a deep breath. I smooth back my bangs with a shaky hand and shudder.

_I need to meditate._

……

……

I return to the Tower.

I ascend to my room.

In a levitating lotus position…surrounded by Azarathian candles…._the scent of home_….

I chant and plummet back into my familiar self.

"Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos……Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos….."

I realize that I have _always_ indulged in myself. Whether it be the ritualistic meditation of my home-taught arts or the way I constantly distract myself with books or meander around the Tower with a cup of tea or simply treat every bombarding associate with taciturn evasion.

The very magic that makes me powerful is essentially a distraction in and of itself. My powers to do good….my superheroic quest against evil……I've known all along that they are distractions. But somehow…the severity of such has not really ripped its way to my psychological surface.

Not yet…..

"Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos…..Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos……."

I've long wondered what my team members think of me at a glance. Am I simply a wildcard in the face of battle? A telekinetic witch who just happens to keep it cool at times when any number of my friends may need a shield in battle or a boost in energy and stamina? I've never considered myself one to support, but I have in fact become that…exactly.

I may deny it, but I've made the atmosphere around my teammates wholesome. I consume dark energies in areas where my friends hardly realize that they are troubled. I 'devour' the demons in the air so that they may remain sane. It's not something I've gone out of my way to do, but rather a subconscious effort on my part. A second sight and a third hand, I suppose.

"Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos……Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos….."

I don't and _can't_ give thought to a thoughtless process I undergo 24/7. But in the case of my friends, I assume that the role I have taken has been for the betterment of them. For it is not often at all that I 'indulge'…..that I utilize my powers and my psyche towards my own person and my own person alone. Everything I've ever been and everything I've ever done has been to focus on the world around me…..on preserving the lives that exist outside of my shell.

Last night, I didn't think about that. Which doesn't mean I didn't care. But….I thought inside the box, and inside the box I purposefully held myself warm and comfortably. Like a snug thought rolled up in purely sinful serenity. With no hint of remorse, fear, or self loathing….

Why is that so _abnormal_?

"Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos…..Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos……."

My friends are not here right now. Perhaps I've let my mind, heart, and body go freely into its own domain. For my team members were not nearby enough for me to subconsciously employ my soul-self into the preservation of _them_. There is kind of 'nudity' that is far more frightening than any other exposure….and that is the exposure of _no exposure_. Of being vulnerable only to oneself. The existential question.

And right now, I can't help but question……….._What am I without my friends?_

What am I inside of this universe?

This fragile and unpredictable dimension?

_Would I be here without them?_

Would I be……fighting crime? Preserving justice?

Am I that weak and pathetic?

My chanting stops.

I open my eyes.

I gaze around my lonely room.

The dark shadows of everything.

The way it lingers, cold and silent…..just like it always does.

With or without the other Titans existing beyond the walls.

I take a long, deep breath.

_This meditation isn't working._

I'm……I'm such a mess right now.

A beat.

I glare at the walls again.

"This Tower is such a mess right now."

……

……

A pair of worn, khaki shorts.

A long, smudged t-shirt twist-tied at my waist.

A handkerchief wrapped around my blue head of hair.

The occasional sandals, but mostly barefoot.

And….

An endless mission.

Around the Tower.

The bathrooms.

The kitchen.

The hallways in front of Robin's room, my room, Starfire's room…

The seats around the Atrium of the Tower.

The super computer desks.

The dishwasher.

The counters and the cabinet drawers.

I am cleaning.

Endlessly.

Armed with various old washcloths, cleanser bottles, paper towels, and water buckets galore.

I clean up the embarrassing debris from last night in my bathroom. I scrub the sink. I polish the tub and make the walls sparkly.

I dust off the ends of my room, removing book after book after book from the walls before resuming the dusting. I pause every now and then to thumb through a good volume I haven't been in for a while and smile ever so slightly to myself.

I turn music on while I'm in the Main Room. The Murmurs. The insides of me hum as I go about my gritty, frenzied task. I realize with each spray of cleanser and every desktop that I turn sparkly just how unkempt all of us are. Truly, I am not one to put blame on others…..but it's hard to deny the slovenly nature of the rest of the team………_compared to myself._

I'm a ridiculous sight. Petitely tossed into a pair of flattering work clothes. Smudges form in greater and greater randomness across my old white shirt and brown shorts. A strand of blue hair or two falls loose from the handkerchief over my head. I'm sweating and I'm starting to get chafe fingers from the dust and cleanser. But I keep going. Pausing every now and then to sip some lemonade. I have the windows open. The humidity of the day seeps in like a summer afternoon. The music calmly enters my ears and exits out through a sighing mouth. In spite of the chafing and the cleanser smell and the two or three times I nearly collapse over a chair trying to reach a high point on the computer consoles (I'm so Azarath-blasted short), I am genuinely enjoying myself. Inasmuch as enjoyment yields itself to a frenzied increase in tempo everytime I think about Beast Boy's uncleanly table manners, Starfire's uncustomary Tamaranian bathroom procedures, Robin's random filing and document losing, and Cyborg's nonchalance. I work faster and faster….spinning my breathless self into oblivion.

_This Tower looks like my own father took an uncustomary bathroom break of his own here……_

The Main Room and my abode are not enough for me. I find myself wandering into enemy territory….and that enemy territory turns out to be the door to Beast Boy's room.

"……………………" I gaze at it. A pail in one hand. My clothes in disarray. Short blue hair included. A mop leaning against a nearby wall. Cleanser bottles and cleanser smell…..trailing. "…………….." My pale brow furrows. "Tough."

I go in.

I raise Hell……_for the heavenly._

Beast Boy's abode becomes a princess' castle in just a mere hour. _Or a prince's……whatever._

I make sure not to disorder anything too much or to pry into any of his belongings. A pair of questionably colored boxer shorts I did—however—bravely move across the room and toss into a hamper thanks to the adept use of a mop pole. I really don't care if he or any of the other Titans return from their mission, find out about my frenzied invasion into their slovenly privacy, and summon all sorts of anger at me.

_I need to do this._

But why?

Argh……anything to make the day go by, I guess.

Besides, this house—er—Tower is a horrific mess.

I move onto Cyborg's laboratory next. At first, I don't expect much to be done. But then I am appalled by the nightmarish dust in the room. I actually go to the infirmary to grab a face mask and gloves before going in. I clean off his computer monitors with Endust. I scrub clean the outsides of the mainframe towers. I consider even scrubbing his keyboards when I save myself with the realization that……_Cyborg's fingers don't have flesh._

That done, Starfire's room is the next country I invade. It honestly isn't that messy of a room, but the only trouble I find is trying to figure out what is 'untidy' and what is necessarily 'Tamaranian' in arrangement. I've realized from one too many visits with Starfire that the interior decorator's concept of 'clean' on another planet significantly differs from solar system to solar system. So I focus on her draperies, her windows, and the bookcase that Robin got her.

I can't for the life of me enter Robin's room, in that the alter-ego Boy Wonder keeps his door shut and locked from all other members of the Tower. But I do give the hallway outside his domain a good mopping. And somehow….in some fashion…..I am satisfied.

And as I return to the Main Room…with the Murmurs CD repeating for the umpteenth time, I find that the Sun is going down. I stand…..stained with cleansers, dust, and various other abominable dust bunny detritus. And I feel like I've emerged from a warzone. I feel like taking an endless shower, I feel like collapsing, I feel…..

I feel distracted.

And my lips curve ever so slightly from the ordeal.

……

……

Nighttime.

I sit in my room.

Candlelight…again….

A soft, blue nightgown.

Legs crossed in a reading chair before the darkened window.

With two things in my petite lap.

Edgar Allen Poe….

And a plate of Chocolate cake.

"Mmmm…..," I take a bite from the slice and wave the fork at the poem. "….now of course….," I murmur through mouths of creamy chocolate. "….if life is but a dream….within a dream….." Another bite. "….then….Mmm….why is it….that we see _color_?" Another bite. "Or…..can _color_ be….simply a word? A word that we label…..because we have nothing greater….to attribute to random phenomena….but the universal human schizophrenia….we commonly call 'language'?"

I finish the cake. I clean the icing off the plate. I dust my hands off, reposition the book on my lap, and smirk ever so slightly.

"Not bad an imagination…..," I drone. "…….for a man who practically died drunk in the gutter…."

It is merely the walls and window reflecting my voice. But I could have sworn….I heard the echo of some hapless girl giggling.

……

……

Bedtime.

I am sliding under the covers.

Freshly clean from the second shower of the evening…._I'm pathetic that way._

I pull the sheets over myself, blow the candle out, and lie down.

And as soon as the darkness erupts.

I freeze…..I freeze in the warmth of myself.

"………………"

_Everything is still……still messy……_

In my mind………

I bite my lip.

I shudder to ignore that.

_Messiness……_

It is the same as color.

I turn over in the covers and hide from the night.

_I wonder what 'colors' my friends are seeing now?_

I hope it's not red.

_So long…..Tuesday……_


	45. Wed

﻿

**Wednesday**

It strikes me before I even know I've woken up.

Like eagle talons around my heart.

I feel like my ears are rocketing to the surface of a very angry Sun.

Those two silly organs on the sides of my head.

Protecting an even sillier organ soft and secret…hidden inside.

Juices, juices, juices.

I am hyperventilating.

I don't know why.

The sheets are half-tossed off the bed.

I'm in a dark, dark room.

These strange gothic designs and these strange patterns once predestined and left to linger on into eternity.

And I don't know why.

I just….

I just suddenly _feel._

And what I _feel……_

It's so small.

So horribly, horribly small.

There's ice creeping up my neck.

Shattering through my spine.

I can feel my heart racing….but it is like a distant memory.

This strange life lived by this strange girl who strangely flings herself against all manners of 'evil' in this world.

Someone on the front cover of every newspaper.

A pale face under dark blue hair in a dark blue frame.

I cannot for the life of me see but a shadow of her against the dark contours of the room.

Beyond my coffin of a bed.

I shake and I shiver.

I stretch these strange hands out before me.

Puppet limbs to a puppet body.

I start to panic.

I don't know why.

This giant hollow skeleton of a Tower that I linger my flesh in…

I hobble out of bed, tripping on a sheet.

I fall on a knee and an outstretched hands.

It hurts.

And it stings…

And it wakes me up twice over…

So that now….now that I'm standing….

Now that I'm this trembling, nightgowned reflection in the mirror…

Where beyond, the Bay of this land sparkles in the moonlight and it reminds me of some semblance of 'beauty'.

And of 'order'.

Such a grand illusion.

Such a grand illusion….

But I cling to it….

And it calms me….

I breathe easier…

And I slide down from the roller coaster.

Drifting backwards…until I fall down and sit on the edge of my bed.

Still trembling.

Trembling.

Trembling…..

And it is only then that I feel the urge to cry.

To wash out these strange, creepy thoughts from my lazy eyes.

These thoughts of what it must like to be thoughtless….formless…..soulless….

An all-too-familiar reality….breathing against me even when I'm lying cozy and comforted in the sheets.

Someone ultimately holds the string to the cork of my pent up bottle of existence.

And one day…

One distant day that I can almost taste right now…

That cork will pop loose and spill all of me across the great void of the mysterious and voiceless universe.

And I am so….so very small in the wake of it.

So very….very small…

And alone.

I sit their on the edge of the bed. Hugging my knees to my chest.

Hoping….begging….all but meditating…..

Praying for the light to come.

For the morning.

I am dead asleep before it arrives.

…

…

When I wake up **again**….I can feel the residual traces of the night's serrated epiphany clawing once again into my heart.

It lies cold and dead like lizard skin…

Like the unloving bedsheets draped limply across me….

I lie there dead like a heavy weight….wondering….

Wondering why it is only on spare occasions that this wyrd dagger slices me in the night.

Why it is so unpredictable…

And why…this one occasion of all occasions….it has felt so strong….?

I look around my room.

I remember the cleaning frenzy I went on the day before.

The euphoria of washing the slate pure.

The feel of purity.

The wonderful high experienced in the evening.

Snuggled up in a chair with a book and dessert.

The gentle simplicity of it all.

And I remember…

I remember the unsettling feeling that all is still cluttered and chaotic and cut to innumerable pieces…

A hellish jigsaw puzzle in my mind…the one room I shall always be shut in.

I have been lucky enough to ignore it…to push it away to some untold dimension in the back of my essence….

….over the last two days.

It was a wondrous meditation in and of itself.

But it failed…..and now it has loosen…

And all the shadows and all the dark wisps of myself now breathe right back into me.

I cannot see where it ends or begins….it is like I am in the eye of my own tempestuous self.

And yet I am lying dead still.

So much silence…..so much endless, boundless silence.

And space….emptiness and desolation supreme.

How have I managed these last two days without going insane?

But then again…..what is my problem with such to begin with?

What is wrong with me?

I….I am better than this.

I have firmer control over who I am.

And what I am.

And how I go about securing that which I am….the peace and the tranquility and the soundness of mind and spirit.

I…..

I need to walk around….

That's all..

Just….

Need to feel the sunlight.

To feel life….

This energy that keeps me going…

For only so long………….

…

…

I am walking the halls of the Tower.

These dark and lonely cavities.

I am clad in my usual black leotard and blue robe.

Nothing casual.

Nothing exotic.

The usual….static me….

And I…

I feel 'me'….

Like an aura being bounced back off the metal surfaces of this interior domain.

This 'me' is the same distant, reclusive girl who drones her way in and swiftly **out** of conversations, conversations, conversations…

With her fellow Titans.

Like awaking from a three day slumber, I remind myself and realize….

That I am alone in this Tower…

In that my friends are gone…but only momentarily.

Last night, I could have been sure I was the only living thing on the face of the planet.

In the whole universe…..

In the end, we are all alone like that, are we not?

I am aware of this.

And I do not let this frighten me.

Or the fact that—in all inevitability—my father will be the one to bring me to that cold and silent end.

And usually I am good at dealing with this truth.

It bothers me now, though….

And it perplexes me….to realize that—for some reason—I am less able to deal with it now…

Than I usually am.

When usually….I have these young superheroes in the same Tower as I to distract me….to annoy me….to pester me with their warmth and near-blind enjoyment of all the hedonistic squalor that life has to offer.

True, I should not be that cruel towards them in thought….

But seriously….it vexes me.

For they are not here at this moment in time.

And I have no excuse….absolutely no excuse whatsoever…

…..to be distracted.

But….

Can last night be called a distraction?

Over many years and many so called 'epiphanies' of panic that wake me up from the dead darkness of night throughout my life….

I have come to the conclusion that my existence itself….and all the light that constitutes its awareness…..is truly the 'distraction'.

The only reality there is……is the advent of no reality.

Daring to preconceive the concept of no conception.

It is a fate that we all share, and I know this.

But I also know that my fate is the only fate I'll ever have….and in its implications, it is also a fate that everyone else will share…._because of me._

And that is the worst preconception of no conception I can ever……_taste_.

And it….

And it…….

….

I stand on the rooftop of the Tower.

And everything is stale.

Even the sunlight that I thought could feed me.

The emptiness in my stomach which normally would be enticing me…..

All these biological meat string circumstances that commonly, commonly motivate me.

It is all just a flailing, withering follicle in the wind.

The all powerful, all forgetful hand of the universe.

Sometimes when I close my eyes…

Out here…exposed to the futile elements…

I can feel the thunder of the universe.

The immensity of everything….like a giant sphere of gargantuan pressure forcing itself on my eardrums.

I can crush at any minute.

Someday, I will crush.

But it is not today.

And everything else is just naked, panicking suspense until then.

I exhale into the darkness of my eyelids.

And despite the Wind and the Bay and the exposed City beyond….

I feel the same messiness as last night.

The same echoes of myself that lingered against the walls of my room and came throttling back against me.

And I am the same as everything else is the same.

And no amount of joy walks…

No amount of Chinese food….

No amount of lavender baths or chocolate cakes or anything of any sort can save me from the raven's rattling birdcage.

A brittle, rusted thing falling down a long…insurmountable ravine.

In a way, I've known this all along.

I just tried to forget about it.

To create a sort of….'happier' desolation for me to suspend myself in.

And I suppose that it has worked….for only so long a duration.

And now I have this….

This Tower….again.

Always this same, lonely, cold Tower that I have flocked to.

And I need….

I need….

…

"Robin, are you there?"

Silence….

"Raven to Robin. Are you there?"

Silence………

"This is Raven at the Tower. How are you guys holding up?"

Silence……………….

I sigh and lean back in the computer chair of the Main Room.

I have tried ten consecutive times to contact my teammates.

Within a span of two hours.

And they have not responded.

They are likely busy with Brother Blood…

Or else, they are confronting some other force in Steel City.

Whatever the case is, they are not responding to me.

I feel certain that they are fine.

Yes, they are all most likely doing well. I sense it.

But still….

"Robin, are you there? It's….um…._n-not_ an emergency but…..please respond?"

Silence…………….

I sigh and close my eyes shut.

I rub fingers along my brow.

I know I should be meditating.

But I'm not.

Because meditating….in as regularly as I do so….brings me back to my roots.

And my roots are in darkness.

And in darkness there is death.

Like a panther with obsidian eyes waiting for the mercy kill.

Four eyes….touchstone….

With a surface of **RED** underneath.

I smell _him_ with each breath I summon to say the three words.

Azarath….Metrion….Zinthos…..

I usually do not fear death.

But at the same time, I am usually not fearing anything.

I am capable of numbing myself with calmness, focus, and routine.

Everything I've learned as an Azarathian and everything I've learned as a Titan has honed me into an able-bodied, versatile young woman.

And death is ever the reality for me.

But my routine has been broken.

And in the shattering, a piece of myself has been nakedly exposed to the bleeding surface.

It is the carnal, instinctive part of each and every one of us.

The tiny, shivering shrew that huddles under mud and leaves at the sound of elephant tracks.

And oh….how simply this pathetic whelp has been stripped of her defenses.

And it truly horrifies me.

It horrifies me that I could be so easily shot down….so easily castrated…

By…..what?

That the Tower is empty?

That I've had only myself to echo against the reverberations of my heart?

In all my existential life, I've known what it's like to be alone.

But have I truly…._felt_ it?

It's like a scuba diver who's spent all her days underwater surrounded by sharks.

But suddenly and inexplicably, the protective cage of iron bars have disappeared.

And the same water that has always been tread turns cold and frigid and paralyzes even the most experienced of skin.

I have always been a derelict in those seas.

To think that now….so literally alone and so literally cast aloft….

I have so easily frozen…

Then what strength did I ever possess to begin with?

How truly have I ever upheld the ways and meditative incantations of Azarath?

Was all my education and meditation a fraud? A hypocritical young woman just waiting to backslide from anything she has ever hidden behind so ideologically?

"Is anyone there….?" I murmur into the communications systems.

Silence……………

I take a deep breath.

I stand up from the chair and shuffle across the main room.

I am overreacting…..

That is all….

That is simply all…..

I can still be calm.

I can still meditate.

I simply need……

To expose myself more….and _deal with it……_

…

…

I am flying over the City.

Levitating high up in the darkening horizon of the evening.

I feel the wind and the air and this time…_yes_….it is cold.

It is real.

And it numbs me in a way that the sale awakening last night did not.

But it is not the same….

It is not the same as Monday.

I am not _indulging_ in myself.

Why did I ever indulge to begin with?

I have always….always been so selfish.

So selfish, deep down inside.

Caring only for the way the future ties its fate around my half-demon fingers.

Or when the dawn will rise red to announce the coming of my father.

I have always thought of myself first….and all the time I've shoved a painful thought away.

Something that I purposefully ignore and forget on a daily basis.

Because I'm too selfish to do otherwise.

And it is a thought…

It is a thought that--

I bite my lip.

I drift along the shores of the Bay's northern edge.

The beaches. The people. The drifters and the endless sound of waves.

The end of the world.

I close my eyes and drift….impossible to see….my dark self against the dark cosmos, forming…forming…forming….

_I have always been doomed to the fate that has been given to me._

What I never want to realize……

Is how doomed everything else is as well.

Not just the world around me.

But……

My friends.

The friends who aren't here.

And as I reopen my eyes, I realize—if not for the first time, then for the first significant time in months….

….that the fear that woke me up last night and paralyzed me…was not of death.

But it was of a _second death._

The ever clear realization that some day I am ultimately doomed to roam a world that my father—through me—has ravaged and wasted…

And slaughtered clean of my friends.

I can smell their corpses now in the imaginary borders of my senses.

Torturously preserved in gnarled fashion for me to feast my eyes and nostrils on.

That I may forever inhale and wrap myself into.

The immortal scent of my failure to be anything but me.

Because I was far….far too cowardly….to let myself die before my friends did.

And that is undeniably the greatest selfishness of all.

I gaze down as I drift over the landscape.

And I see on the beach…a familiar sight.

A bonfire.

And over a dozen teenagers.

Gathered…entwined…

Sitting in meditative fashion around the blaze…

Laughing and singing in a chaotic chorus of life.

And one of them leads them with a guitar…his youthful features twice ablaze in the reflection of the amber-interrupted night forming overhead.

I can see in him the opposite of me….and it looks strangely like the girl who ventured through a Chinese buffet and drifted off in a lavender bath…..and it looks at least partially like the girl who attacked every corner and crevice of the tower on a cleaning frenzy.

But it doesn't look like this girl right now…..it doesn't look like the real me.

I drift around, magically ensnare an air current, and levitate back home to the emptiness.

…

…

As I walk down these cold, metal hallways.

I see each and everyone of my teammates' names on their doors.

And I think of them.

The way they smile and cry and laugh and yell around me.

These living things that adopted what they understood of 'Raven' and labeled it upon me……_yes_, with love….

And maybe now I can summon a reason for the selfishness….or at least something to explain why I legitimize it.

For some crazy….inexplicable reason, I have forced my friends into a jeopardy.

For now it will hurt them either way…..if I choose to be selfish or not.

Only I know….only I know they would suffer all the more if I continue to willfully live.

But somehow….despite all I have been taught about the abominable fury of my father's torturous coming….

I can't make myself believe that they would suffer more in his hands then they would if I was to suddenly and mercilessly leave them.

But I don't know for sure.

It is so confusing…..and as long as that confusion exists….I cannot make a right decision.

I simply…..drift within the spacious confines of myself…..much like this empty tower….

And I meditate or indulge interchangeably in between……just to distract me from the fact that at some point or another….

I will have to make a decision.

Or my father will have to make it for me.

And if only I had some counsel….if only I could be assisted in either way to decide.

But all I ever do and all I ever think I limit to the solitary opinions of myself.

And right now….shattered and flung to the vulnerable surface as I am by this hideous wakefulness….

How can I sum it all up?

"I….I…..," I murmur every time I pass by Cyborg's room…..Beast Boy's…..Robin's….Starfire's…… "I…..I miss……"

I do not finish the sentence.

It feels selfish of me.

I go to sleep early that night….full aware that I could wake up in a cold sweat of panic again.

Instead, I like cold under my sheets.

Restless.

My eyes wide to the messy darkness of my domain.

And I feel so weak….and I feel so pathetic…

I really do need to meditate tomorrow.

I don't know why I haven't….._actually, that's a lie. I do know why I haven't._

But I need to anyway.

Because tomorrow……I could possibly wake up a better me.

A more……._distracted_ me……

_Monday……_

Please come back, Monday……


	46. Thurs

﻿

**Thursday**

I slowly wake up.

And 'slowly waking up' is a process that takes two to here hours of progression into the gray world of the morning.

I am not excited to be alive.

And I am too worried to try sleeping more.

Somewhere inside this woman's body, instinct takes over.

And I rise from my iced bed…..and drift into the realm of life.

A partaker?

And invader……?

……………most likely neither….

I see the same old shadows around me.

The traces of angsty thoughts.

The spaces of absent friends.

This pathetic girl churning and burning into a hole inside herself.

And I sigh……

_It's all so absurd._

Just……so absurd………

Why……dear Azar……Why can I not just grow out of it?

I want this week to end.

I know that now.

I want this to week…..but I know that to find solace in that….

…….is absurd.

I get 'dressed' for the day.

………

………

In my dreams.

In my angst.

And in the hollow spaces of my eyes.

….everything is all wandering the lengths of these cold, metal hallways.

It is almost funny how the frigidity of Titan's Tower has enveloped and embodied who I am.

It is interesting how I have learned to blend in.

Hovering in the corner with a book.

Wandering the darkest corners with a cup of tea.

A saucer….

I have learned to love these hallways more than my teammates.

Or at least….I have grown to give these cold labyrinths more respect.

Somehow……

Somehow………that all _hurts_ me now….

The lack of reflections in the walls that I love.

The dead colors.

No yellow capes. No blue circuitry. No amber skin. No green hair.

Only and ever 'blue'.

The color that 'flees away' from the natural and reserved on the far end of the spectrum…..

It is what I've become.

It is what I've buried myself in.

I know that I was happy on occasion when this week of 'minding the Tower' began.

But somehow….the only trace memory that comes to surface for me now is……

Is just some girl wandering the cold, dead walls of metal.

Lost in blue.

Lost in……..

"…………………."

………

………

"Raven to the Teen Titans. Respond."

_"…………………"_

"This is Raven reporting from Titan's Tower. Titans, are you there?"

"…………………"

"Robin? Cyborg? If you are there, please respond."

"………………..Starfire? Beast Boy?"

"…………………………….Silkie?"

"……………………"

I sigh.

I lean back in the chair at the Titan's Computer and tiredly rub my temples with a stressful hand.

A beat….

I 'wrap' myself warmly in the cold folds of my blue robe and hood.

I fold my arms….hugging them towards my center…

And linger……………

_This is stupid._

Stupid and pointless.

I haven't been able to contact them in two days.

And they are most likely engaged in Brother Blood or some other hassle in Steel City by now.

Robin would yell at me if I disturbed them in the middle of such important business solely because I was……I was………I w-was……

_  
Well………_

At least he'd yell at something.

_But it doesn't change the fact that this is pointless._

The Titans have better things to do.

I sigh again.

I swivel around in the chair.

I stand up.

I walk across the Main Room.

_They've got better things to do._

I walk past the kitchen counter.

Beyond any hope of making tea.

_I've got better things to do……………_

………

………

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos……Azarath Metrion Zinthos……..Azarath Metrion Zinthos…….Azarath Metrion Zinthos…."

I am meditating…

…

'_Meditating.'_

On top of Titan's Tower.

In the wind.

In the grayness.

I wonder to myself if the weather really did turn gloomy, or if it's just my thoughts manipulating what I see.

And then I am wondering _why I am wondering._

And ultimately I realize that _I shouldn't be wondering at all._

I should be meditating.

I should be….

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos……Azarath Metrion Zinthos……..Azarath Metrion Zinthos…….Azarath Metrion Zinthos…."

These are the words I have worked on and practiced all my life.

These are the phrases that put me at ease.

They are the paths by which I find my center and smooth out the erratic contours of myself.

And…..

And now…..

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos……Azarath Metrion Zinthos……..Azarath Metrion Zinthos…….Azarath Metrion Zinthos…."

_……They are not working._

My brow furrows.

My lips tighten.

And my fingers—gracefully and meditatively posed…..twitch and sweat.

_Why isn't this working?_

What am I doing wrong?

I know what's distracting me.

At least I **think** I know.

But……

I'm stronger than this.

I am better.

I am………

I sigh.

There is a certain deflation to my levitating stance.

As it weighs on me….Hangs from me…

Like so many other things catching up to me this week.

Everything I have ever worked on or fined down into a hardened system of self control is now failing.

And it is an inescapably helpless place to be….when something that you have worked on for so long and placed so much of your own psyche and being into _suddenly_ starts to fall and crumble apart.

And it makes you want to deny it….But it also forces you to analyze yourself.

And typically….the findings are hollow.

Empty.

Bodiless.

Formless.

_What I am and what I have become……_

It doesn't really belong out here in 'meditation', does it?

No……

It wants to be in those cold and dark hallways.

Without the Titans.

Without the colors.

Lost in blue…………

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos……Azarath Metrion Zinthos……..Azarath Metrion Zinthos…….Azarath Metrion………."

I inhale.

I sigh out.

"….Z-Zinthos……"

Silence……..

_Pointless._

And the weather is awful.

I'm going in………

………

………

So what do I do?

Do I pour myself tea?

Do I wander the hallways?

Do I dig my nose into a book I've probably read before?

Anything and everything I have to choose to do only reminds me of myself.

And 'myself' is one of many things I would rather not deal with right now.

Everything I touch and everything I see reflects this failure in a blue robe and black leotard.

Even if the Titans were here…..

Even if……..

But their voices…..

Their voices are colorless….

_Right……?_

What would be the harm in that?

What would be the harm—

**Bree! Bree! Bree! Bree!**

I snap out of it.

I blink.

I find that I am standing before a pane of glass windows.

Staring out on the gray-swept City.

The Main Room surrounds me.

And….

The blaring noise of the Titan's Computer is going off.

All around me.

**Bree! Bree! Bree! Bree!**

I turn around—

_No._

I **spin**.

A blinking and a twitching…..

I levitate towards the communication system like a slow motion _dive._

**Bree! Bree! Bree-**CLICK.

"Titan's Tower. Raven speaking. Robin? Are you guys all r—erm…….Ahem…..Wh-What can I do for you?"

"_Snkkkt—no, thsnkkksn't Robssnskkktt!"_

"……….," I blink. "Hello?" I drone.

"_Snnkkkt—Hold onsskskktkterence with ocean currsnkktkt!"_ **Breeeee!** **BLIP!** _"There!"_

A face flickers across the viewscreen of the Computer.

Long black hair.

Pale smooth skin.

Black eyes….

"…………," I blink. My blue optics narrow. "Aqualad….?" I drone.

"_Oh, hey! 'Raven', is it?"_

"Uhh…..yeah…."

"_Pleasure to meet you again. Well…that is……TALKING to you again. I know that the last few times we met were under wilder circumstances. Dealing with Brother Blood and all that."_

"Uh huh," I nod. "Erm….and speaking of Brother Blood, I'm kinda sorta minding the Tower while the rest of my team mates go out to handle the psychopath."

"_Yeah, I know."_

I do a soft double-take. "You **know**?"

_"Robin's been calling around while he and the Titans have been doing their search of Steel City. I talked with Robin merely a few hours ago."_

My eyes…..

Twitching?

Widening?

Waking finally out of the dead sleep of this morning?

"You……_spoke_ with Robin in the last few hours?"

_"Mmmmmhmm. Lemme guess, you've been trying to—"_

"Contact the Titans, yeah."

"_Right. I'm not the only one Robin's called. He and Cyborg have been trying to round up young superheroes to create an Eastern Team to ward off against Brother Blood and other creeps on the other side of the continent. He talked with Bumblebee shortly before calling me. You remember her? The spy who infiltrated Brother Blood's hideout the last time we all kicked his tail."_

"Yeah, I guess….."

"_Word is he's now calling Speedy and then some sibling crime-fighting group from Latin America. But anyways……that's sucking out the juice from their communication batteries. So after I got called, they asked if I could give you a ring and kinda update you and stuff."_

"I see……," I adjust the robe over my head. As cold breath. I only 'half' look at him. "So……the Titans………they are…..they are _okay_?"

_"Oh, definitely! They had a few scrapes with Brother Blood, but—"_

"But?"

"………_they're fine. They kicked butt. Wow, if I knew you were **this** worried, I would have suggested Robin send Starfire back to the Tower to check on you or something."_

A jumping.

_The heart?_

Epidermal layer?

_  
No……Ignore it._

"I'm fine. In fact, the whole Tower is fine. The City is fine and….and….."

_"………………"_

I look directly at the view screen. I raise an eyebrow. "Do I sound 'worried' to you?"

He shrugs, a smile. _"I guess I'm just assuming. You **are** their teammate and all. And they're off to track down a real bad-news villain. It's really nice and unselfish of you to watch over the Tower by your lonesome and all, not to mention the City."_

I hug myself. "Yeah, well—"

"_Has that turned out to be a tough job so far?"_

"Why are you curious? Are you going to report it to Robin since for some reason the Titans can't _directly_ hear from **me**?"

Aqualad shrugs, looking a bit hurt. _"N-No. I was just……ya know……"_

I lean my head to the side….

"_If things go the way Robin and Cyborg are predicting them, I might end up becoming a Titan soon, ya know."_

"Yeah….."

Aqualad gestures. _"It's good to check on each other. 'Scratch each other's backs'—as you surface dwellers say. But if you'd rather be on your lonesome, I understand. I should be signing off anyways—"_

"N-NO!"

Aqualad jumps on the screen. _"………I beg your pardon?"_

I'm standing. My hood has fallen off. My fists are clenched.

I blink.

_Did I just………?_

_"Raven?"_

"Erm….th-that is….," my cheeks turn a bit rosy. "D-Don't sign off without….uhm….telling me about…….._uhmmmm_…..the projected plans of the Titans."

_"I'm afraid I have no clue about that, Raven."_

"Oh……….." My blue eyes trail off.

"_But I can tell you about their recent exploits. In fact, that's kinda what Robin wanted me to share with you. But I felt as long as you were informed about their safety, that was more than enough."_

"By all means……," I swallow and say gently. "You can inform me…."

"_You sure? Cyborg said you might be busy meditating or sensing crime in the City or—"_

"It's…..It's **okay**…..," my lips curve ever so slightly. With a shakey hand, I swivel the computer chair around. I sit in it and scoot forward, resting my elbows on the desktop. "………I have all the time in the world." I drone.

………

………

"……_and so that's when Cyborg and Starfire grabbed Steamroller from behind and restrained him just long enough for Robin to fling…..erm……whatever those discs of his are called. Anyways, it was a 'freezing-disc', and it practically turned Steamroller into a statue that they could restrain long enough for the meta-crews to get there."_

"Streamroller……."

"_You're as perplexed as I am. You Titans have dealt with a 'Cinderblock' before, right?"_

"Er……yeah."

"_What is it with Titans and villains named after Construction iconography?"_

"A question that Starfire has asked on many an occasion," I murmur. There is a teacup and saucer in my hand. I swivel the cup around on the tiny plate. The herbal tea swishes…

"_I imagine that you're bored of explaining to her. What chance do I have?"_

"It depends. Are you really, _really_ curious about giant walking blocks of concrete?"

"_Eh. I guess not. Heheheheheheheh. Thanks……"_

"Hmmmmmmm," I take a sip. I look softly up towards him on the screen. "So what happened next?"

"_Robin attempted interrogating Steamroller, while at the same time Cyborg took samples of evidence from the scene. I don't know how he does it, but with whatever tech that aids him, Cyborg found a connection to a Rock Quarry just north of Steel City. Beast Boy and Starfire went to check it out. They found a cache of weapons hidden with Brother Blood's name written all over it. There was a small scuffle with henchmen, but as soon as Robin and Cyborg joined in……the Titans kicked butt again. So far, so good. Steel City's been saved from terrorist tools voluminous enough to blow the place up three times over, and already a major henchman and several thugs have already been put behind bars. Your friends are doing wonderfully."_

"And they say they need your help?"

"_Well, not right now. But when they head on back, they say that a new team needs to be formed. That's where I'd come in."_

"What do you think about that?"

"_What does it matter what I think about it?"_

"Well, everything, Aqualad."

"_I'm not scared, if that's what you're insinuating."_

"And I'm not," I drone. A sip of tea. "But…..leaving your Atlantis and stuff. You would be willing to go through with that?"

"_I've helped round up just about every underwater villain you can think of. The seas have been safe for a long time. The only threats have been Trident and Brother Blood……but you Titans have been doing a good job on them, and I've long since owed you, so—"_

"Making a move, huh?"

"_I would very much like to."_

"You sound like you would be a very good asset to the Titans' Legacy," I say. "Did you seriously defeat _all_ the underwater villains?"

"_Well………"_

"Well what?"

"_Not on my own. But yeah. It's pretty dull here, under the waves."_

"Tell me about it."

"………_Huh?"_

I rest the teacup and saucer on the desktop and fold my hands in my lap. "Tell me about the times you were victorious, Aqualad."

_"Ohhhh……heh heh heh………But you couldn't **possibly** bother about hearing **that**."_

"Hmmmmmm," my lips curve ever so slightly. "Try me….."

………

………

"_And so there we were. Aquaman, Aquagirl, and I………Surrounded by Black Mantis and his toxic minions……"_

"Mmmmhmmm?"

"_And Aquaman—as always—gets the bright idea of summoning a killer whale to ram a hole open in the trench beneath us, which—naturally—produced a jet of hot thermal current from a lava rift hidden beneath……"_

"Naturally……"

"_The hot currents start to boil the water all around us. Nobody is fast enough to outswim the heat……except the Killer Whale. And Aquaman's already made the thing swim over towards us. The three of us hitch a ride while Aquagirl kisses Black Mantis behind us goodbye."_

"What ever happened to him?"

"_You ever seen what happened to a lobster when you cook it alive?"_

"I've **heard** it."

"_Yeah, he screamed in his shell for quite a while. And when we came back and found him…………well…………what was left inside his suit to throw into Atlantean prison was too BURNED to commit more terrorism, much less want to."_

"Ouch."

"_Yeah. And I can't say the psychopath didn't deserve it. I hear that he's recovered from his burns. But now he spends everyday in prison making ocean bead necklaces. A shadow of the dark man he once was. Heh……isn't that poetic justice?"_

"It's certainly poetic. But not so much just as it is……."

_"Is what, Raven?"_

"……….**funny.**"

"_Heheheheh…..yeah, it is funny. Heh heh heh heh!"_

"Hmmm-Hmmm-Hmmm….."

………

………

"_What's worse is that my 'first contact' was being caught in a fishing net."_

"Snnlllpppptttpptt!"

"………_? Raven, are you okay?"_

"I am, but my tea isn't. Ahem….slppt….pffft. Nnngh…..Repeat what you just said?"

"_I was caught in a fishing net."_

"The first time you ever met surface dwellers?"

"_Yeah. I wasn't embarrassed at the time, however. I thought I was caught in some deadly weapon of sorts. So……I-I wasn't so regretful when I saw the looks on the wet fishermen's faces."_

"Wet? How'd they get into the water?"

"_I telepathically asked a herd of sea lions to tip their boat over."_

"Oh no……"

"_Aquaman later understood me. I was simply trying to free myself, not cause a huge global war between Atlanteans and surface folk."_

"What about the fishermen?"

"_They didn't catch anything else that day…………And **I** had to get a haircut."_

"Hmmm-hmmm-hmmm…."

"_That's funny to you?.?.?"_

"I seriously can't imagine your hair being any longer."

"_Raven, I was **ten** at the time I was caught in the fishers' net."_

"Your hair was long then too?"

"_Yeah. Egads, it was wyrd. Aquaman would get me and Aquagirl mixed up a few times."_

"Great Azar…..and still you grew it back?"

"_Hey, I like it like this! Besides, Aquagirl decided during her teenage years to go with short-short hair."_

"Cute….."

"_By the way you dully say the word 'cute', I'm tempted to call that sarcasm."_

"Get to know me."

"_Heh heh heh………yeah, okay."_

"I bet you and Aquagirl make an interesting pair."

"…………_who says she's interested in **boys**?"_

………

………

"And everytime she freaked out, she would demolish an lamppost or a building front with her powers. It took a long time, but we managed to calm her down some. But all the while, I had the hardest time flying in Starfire's body."

"_Couldn't get a good wind?"_

"Couldn't get happy enough."

"_Awwwwww……"_

"It wasn't too bad. When I learned to fly finally, I nearly ran into walls and stuff. She kinda got my powers down a lot better, admittedly."

"_How hard can it be?"_

"……………yeah. Good point….."

"_It must be funky to be in somebody else's body."_

"I didn't like the long hair quite so much."

"_Hey!"_

"Hmmm-Hmmm-Hmmm."

_"Heheheheh."_

………

………

"And…..well……I sealed him away. It's one thing to be imprisoned back into a book of magic, but I decided to hide him for good. There's no point in having the creep come back and exploit anyone else's life."

"_I see. It must have been hard cleaning up after Rorek."_

"It wasn't too bad. We've had the Tower beaten up before. Just…..n-not my room. I had the ceiling patched up, and Cyborg helped me with the insulation—"

"_No, I mean……sounds like that Rorek guy hurt you petty bad."_

"Hmmm? Oh…..pfft. I deal. We all deal."

"_You're so sure about that?"_

"I'm………….."

"……………_Raven?"_

"I'm sure."

"_Well, that's good to hear. I can see why the Titans chose you."_

"Hmmmm?"

"_You're a woman of integrity."_

"Eh……not really."

"_Come on! You gotta be proud of at least ONE thing in your superheroic career!"_

_"Well?"_

"I……..I keep the Tower clean….."

_"Heh heh heh heh heh heh."_

I sit back comfortably in the chair.

And….

I……………smile…..

………

………

"It's not that my friends annoy me, I guess. It's just that…..they could do more things of a calmer nature. It feels to me like they're always so jumpy and hyped up between fighting crime and bad guys. It's almost like they don't stop the adrenaline rush of tackling enemies at all in between bouts. It's a constant air of tension and antsy-ness in the Tower, and sometimes it positively drives me insane. I try to meditate and block it all out. But I can't. I've grown terribly used to it. And….And I'm not sure if that's something I'm proud of. But it certainly is something that….that….."

"_Do you miss them, Raven?"_

"………..," I blink at the screen. That one question. The way my rear end hurts from sitting so long. The shadows that have increased all around the room. The passing of time, and I've been here all the while. And now I am suddenly, gloriously numb. "I…….I…….Huh?"

"_I said, do you miss your friends right now, Raven?"_

"……………………," I bite my lip.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Aqualad jumps on the screen. He whips out an Atlantean communicator. _"Whoops!"_ he utters.

"'Whoops', what?"

"_I just got word from Poseidonis. They need help calming a school of sharks along the underwater trade route. It'd be great if I lent a hand."_

"Oh, right. I-I'm sorry for keeping you….."

"_What? Oh, nothing. Besides……it's been fun talking to you, Raven."_

"It's been…..," I wring my hands together where he can't see them. "…..f-fun?"

"_Yeah. I didn't mind at all,"_ he nods on the screen with a smile.

I exhale……..

"_Raven?"_

I sharply inhale.

"Y-Yeah?"

"_We should continue this conversation again sometime. As long as you aren't busy or anything."_

"……………"

"_Just a thought. But I doubt you'd be interested—"_

"It's……It's-It's-It's fine…..," I stutter. A crooked attempt to curve my lips upward. "I….uhm……Y-Yeah…….Yeah, Aqualad…..I would like to talk. Just…….I would like to talk….."

"_Heh……Couldn't have said it better myself."_

"I mean, if you're not busy—"

"_Hey, sharks are sharks. Otherwise, don't feel afraid to give me a call."_

I gulp. "You want me to--?"

"_Probably better that way since you've got a stronger signal at the Tower."_

"Ah…..Right. I hear you…."

"_I wish you luck. And if I hear from your friends again, I'll let you know."_

"Right……"

"_So long, Raven?"_

"Yeah….."

**BLIP!**

"…….so long…."

With a deflating breath, I fall back further in the seat. I stare at the blank screen. The blackness of it.

Slowly, I am drifting…turning….gazing out towards the wide windows of the Tower's Main Room.

"……………….whoah…."

It is dark outside.

Nighttime.

I have skipped the sunset altogether.

_What was that?_

Four hours?

Six?

It couldn't be…..

Could it?  
  
I know as soon as I stand up.

"Nnnngh…."

My legs are like cracked, rusted iron. They ache. And I can't feel my rear end for the life of me.

And I'm hungry.

And I'm thirsty.

And I'm……warm.

"Dear Azar….I've never felt so dead…."

It's true. So very true.

Only…..I almost like it.

This 'dead'ness.

For when you're dead, the glimpses of life are all that more rewarding.

And fulfilling.

And I didn't even ask it.

I didn't even try to indulge.

I just……_received._

And all the shadows and all the lacking colors and all the cold aura of the Tower……

It is no longer the same slayer of little girls with blue hair and blue robes.

It is the ever-real night. Something that I have dealt with and made peace with before.

I may be deluded….I may be deceived…

But I am….

I am _happy_….

My legs still hurt.

So rather than walk, I _float_ into the kitchen.

Lighter than air.

I may or may not be smiling.

I don't care.

I don't care anymore, I just….

….live.

………

………

After dinner and a shower, I decide to go to bed early.

_Why?_

In the last two nights, I haven't _truly_ slept.

True, I was in bed.

I was under the covers.

But there was no drifting away.

No solace.

No peace.

_Tonight……_

Tonight, I feel like I can truly sleep again.

_Why?_

An antidote.

A cure.

A spoonful of life….humanity…camaraderie.

Cheap? Maybe. But I didn't ask for the solace that now drips over me.

_He seemed so natural when talking to me._

Can I really be someone that personable?

Can people really be comfortable when talking to me?

If Aqualad……then……

………_my friends as well?_

_He is but a stranger to me, yes._

And he doesn't really know me, yes.

_But for once……I didn't try to be myself._

Everything I failed at—the meditation and the centering of myself—it served to support me all the same.

_Maybe this is the way things are meant to be?  
_

_A social-psychological reboot of my psyche?_

I have no clue.

Maybe I am not supposed to have a clue.

I put on my nightgown.

I deflate into the covers.

They are cool.

They are inviting.

And over time—like a surprise—they warm me.

And—_I swear on the book of Azar_—this is the most peaceful I have felt in years.

The traces of fear are still there.

The edginess of my lonely debacle.

My gloomy fate.

_But what is peace?_

What is peace….without the advent of anguish?

I am indeed….truly alive….

I turn out the light. I snuggle into the covers. I shut my violet eyes, and my lips remained curved and liquid….

_Maybe tomorrow……_

Maybe tomorrow, Aqualad will call.

And we can talk.

And maybe……just maybe……

When the Titans come back………

Starfire and I can go shopping…………

Or Cyborg and I can go out for a drive………

Or Robin could tell me some more of his Gotham exploits.

_Or Beast Boy could fill me in on his short-lived acting career._

For a moment I shudder.

I turn under the covers, rest my head, and return to that soft…snuggly serenity.

_Okay……_

Maybe not Beast Boy……

I sigh.

Happily sigh….

And die a temporary death into the solacing night.

_Thank you, Thursday………_


	47. Fri

﻿

**Friday**

I wake up from a dream.

A very….perfumed dream.

I was walking the Halls of the Temple of Azar.

The dark void surrounded me….like a vase of black glass.

I was dressed in the ceremonial blue Lenin.

With each birthday came the mass meditation to ward off the fingers of Trigon.

The morning before, I was sitting in the parlor before the mirror.

With my young mother seated behind me.

Doing my hair.

Gentle caresses of the brush and hand.

But…….

My mother never 'did my hair'.

My mother was never allowed to so much as touch me in the years that I grew up.

Attachment would lead to emotion.

And emotion would lead….

……..to doors being opened…..

…………doors that shouldn't be touched, much like myself.

I keep the doors to my bedroom closed these days.

I no longer walk temple hallways in ornamental gowns.

I have learned to accept the shadows before they begin to follow my feet.

But….

As I wake up in bed this morning, I somehow smell the scent of her.

The fragrant 'mother-ness' that shall never leave any of us.

It's burned into our skin and hearts like amniotic dye.

The traces of it bleed away from my violet-colored vision as the light collects and the day grows older.

I know I haven't slept in.

But….I could very well sleep in.

The consideration of such means……..things have changed.

This Tower…..this week……

I can no longer deny that—for better or for worse—I am a happier person than I used to be.

As far as happiness goes, of course……

But…perhaps such a consideration is erroneous.

For what is happiness if all that there is to be deemed joyful is dictated by delirium, distraction, and delay?

My future is a dark future.

It always has been, and it always will be.

But a lamb sentenced for sacrifice cannot remain spotless forever.

It is to be _touched_ eventually.

Whether it be by the flame or by the laugh.

I am in many ways a dark sacrifice. What is the use if I live a pure, spotless life between now and the brink of Destruction…….if I can allow myself to be touched as well?

But then again, have I not already been touched?

It is out of my hands….and in the grasp of my _friends……_

The Teen Titans may not be the apple of my eye, but these companions of mine have still impacted my life.

If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be half as confident in myself as I am now.

And that sense of fulfillment is warming….

……and it chases away the scant scents of my mother as the dream evaporates like a melted sheet of wax.

And I can get up this morning.

I pull the sheets off me….

Slide out of bed….

Pad across the room….

And sigh my way into a morning shower.

I still feel alive.

I still feel alive………and….

Content.

……

……

Gowned in leotard and robe…

I set about the kitchen.

I pour myself some tea.

I drift over to the window of the Main Room.

I gaze out the glass and sip.

Half of my reflection….

Half of my City…

The entire day greets me.

With needle-point embers, it delightfully numbs me.

I take a deep breath.

I point a finger of telekinesis towards the window gears and—

Pause midway.

"………………"

_No……No need to open the windows._

Not yet.

I take a deep breath.

Another sip….

And…………

I stand there.

Silent.

"…………………"

I swallow the residual traces of herbal tea further down my throat.

I shift where I stand.

One foot.

Another.

"…………………."

I slowly….inevitably look over my shoulder.

I glance at the communication station.

The controls and computer system for contacting any and all of the Titan allies.

The seat of mine that must _still_ be warm from the day previous.

And I stare…..

And I stare………

And I stare…………….

And I exhale.

_Later._

I sip some more and drift back past the kitchen counter.

_It'll work better…………later……_

……

……

I hover on the rooftop of the Tower.

The Gray Wind.

The Gray Sky.

I don't mind one bit….

I levitate in a lotus position and fold my fingers meditatively.

My eyes are closed. My breath is calm. And my mind is centered.

But I do not say the three words out loud.

The chanting stays in my head.

"…………………………………….."

My nostrils flare once during a major inhale.

I open my violet eyes momentarily.

I stare at the stabbing horizon.

The City skyscrapers stabbing into the air.

The calm deadness of the sky.

These are things that normally fill me with a numb peace.

But the most I can feel right now is content.

And there is nothing wrong with feeling 'content', in or out of meditation.

But…..

The moment I start to **analyze** it, I know….

I know I am doomed to plummet.

And—inevitably—my meditation is cut short by that thought alone.

I take a shuddering breath and try to close my eyes.

Trying to regain something—if not that which was lost, then that which I haven't yet begun to lose.

And my chanting becomes desperate.

And vocal.

"_Azarath………Metrion………Zinthos………………Azarath………Metrion………Zinthos………"_

……

……

I drift into the Main Room.

My skin feels dry, all of the sudden.

Parched.

I shudder my breath forth and hover towards the windows.

I flick a wrist at the gears.

_Whurrrrrrr!_

The windows open.

A cool, high-altitude breeze wafts in from the City-side of the Bay.

It cools me.

But…..

Superficially.

I fold my blue-sleeved arms and take a breath.

"………………………………………………"

I swallow a gulp.

I slowly….gaze to the side.

The communication console rests within open view.

The seat half-turned.

The digital lights gently, rhythmically strobing.

"………………………………………………"

Without a breath…

I swiftly turn away from the sight.

I walk quickly towards the elevator doors.

……

……

In the atrium of the Tower.

On the first floor.

I curl up on one of the oversized chairs with a book.

My petite legs prop up the pages for me.

I grasp the covers open with light fingers.

And…..

Dash all over the page with rhythmically-set violet eyes.

The book is the fourth in a series of reading material…….now stacked one on top of the other to the left of the chair that I am in.

I ravenously pour into my pages.

Flying loopty-loops over syntax, sentences, paragraphs, and prose.

Of dragons and demons and cursed family mansions……

Stories that have always pricked me, for they sing pleasantly about the dark shades of me I have long come to regret…..

….and made them all fanciful.

There is relief to be had in being 'creepy'.

For it is a tier below the unimaginable….

And the undesirable.

But right now—for the life of me—I cannot see this reading session to be anything than what it actually is.

What anything in life that makes me 'content' is.

A distraction.

Slowly, my violet optics drip off the pages.

And I start to forget the names of the accursed protagonists that I've been so thirstily limping over in texts passed….

And my eyesight instead lingers in the darker hues of the room.

Evoking sigh after sigh.

"…………………………….."

……

……

I stand in the middle of the Main Room.

My blue robe hanging about me like a shroud.

Staring….

Staring at the communications station.

"……………………….."

A shudder….--

I swallow.

I glance out the window.

The gray sky has turned grayer.

The bright day resembling more and more like a hazy morning….turning into a breached birth of dawn.

_I have…………'waited' long enough……_

I suppose………

I inhale.

I walk over to the station.

My steps a little too quick for my own good.

Somehow, I slow down just enough by the time I reach the station.

I grab the chair.

I sit daintily in it.

Swivel about…

And operate the dials and buttons of the station.

I send a signal to the communication device of Aqualad.

My pale finger hovers over the activation switch…..

……and lingers.

"…………………………………………"

I take a breath.

I flip the switch.

_Klik!_

_Beep……Beep……Beep……_

I sit.

Sit still.

Watching. Listening.

_Beep……Beep……Beep……_

I take my finger slowly off the switch.

I fold it with my other hand in my lap.

Watching.

Waiting……

_Beep……Beep……Beep……_

My teeth tighten under my lips.

I can feel my knuckles against each other.

The air wafting in through the windows over the last hour of abandonment in the Main Room fills the enclosed air with a death akin to Autumn.

Again, the things that make me content.

They fall on a paralyzed body…..

A body with violet eyes and pale ears glued to the Machine.

_Beep……Beep……Beep……_

I take a deep breath.

My eyelids lover some.

_He's not answering._

"………………………"

_Most likely……busy with Atlantean duties and what-not……_

"………………………"

_I'll just……_

_  
Be courteous……_

_And……_

………leave him a page.

I flip the switch back, reach a hand over, and punch a series of buttons.

_He'll know that I have called._

And he can call me back………

……………………………………_only if he wants to._

I finish the button combination.

I lean back in the chair—a little too ungracefully for my own good—and stare at the Machine.

The Machine that is now blank and silent as stone.

"…………………………….."

_Only if he wants to………_

I take a deep breath, swivel the chair around, and force legs of lead to stand up.

And I walk away.

……

……

I drift down hallways.

Past names.

Names of Titans emblazoned on the doors.

….which tells me that I must be walking feverishly all over the Tower, for no two rooms' of ours reside on the exact same floor.

For all of the camaraderie the Titans share, we keep a fairly equidistant space from each other.

I do not believe that my teammates are nearly as reclusive or distancing as I am, but…..

Everyone loves to dip into the sanity of that same solitary confinement that defines me.

Only…..nobody is willing to admit it.

And when it comes to admittance, what is it that I have or have not confessed? Even to myself?

This week has proven to me that the loneliness I treasure is similarly a bane to my own fiber of being.

I'm a lot shallower than I hold credit.

Or maybe…..I've just not been given everything I've ever wanted in one fatal swoop of a handful of days like this before….

Whatever the case, it is turning my head in circles.

And like gears, my legs have been forced into movement.

The best thinking arrives in the shower or on a mindless walk.

And in this case, my pacing exceeds my mentality.

The names of the Titans drift past my vision sooner than I think of them.

I'm forced to react to visual cues.

And I see…

'_Robin'_

And it forces me to a stand-still.

His door is the same as everyone else's.

And in spite of the factory-neutrality of everyone's door, Robin's own still manages to garner a sense of plainer existence.

It is stale.

Strong and sturdy—yes—but we all know it to be a greater shield than all the other gateways into private superhero lives that this Tower contains.

I have done my best to make my bedroom off-limits to all living things in the next square mile….

…..but Robin is the only one among us who has a perfect track record of protecting the sanctity of his room.

None of us have ever entered it.

It is stone-solid.

Ice-cold-shut.

Locked and guarded by more security codes than even a hundred Cyborgs could mutually crack.

And because of Robin's standing as leader…..and _legend……_

None of us have ever _tried_ entering the secret lair of his essence.

For inside this room, the boy beneath the Boy Wonder surely unpeels himself.

The mask is no longer a necessity, and we all can only wonder as to the short, black-haired stranger who lives among us….

…sealed up in his secure sarcophagus with only the emblazoned 'R' on the outside to denote any sign of life.

It's a factor of human nature that a person who hides himself in mystery becomes all that much more inspiring and provocative.

It would be a lie to claim that—even the most reclusive of us have never pondered what secrets lie behind the lasting shield of the Titan Leader's fragile, mortal body.

But all of us have far too much respect and—yes—love for him to ever desecrate the meager things he asks for when all else he sacrifices for the will of the team.

Inhumanity is Robin's only guilty pleasure.

I've long grown to realize that him—like me—is aided and strengthened solely by the strength of his own denial.

In his case, it is the denial of his limits.

Where I….

_I know that I am horrifically limitless._

My pale finger traces the curve of the emblazoned 'R''s circle.

I take a deep breath, and exhale through pursed lips.

"…………………."

I lower my eyelids heavily, and shuffle on….

……

……

_WHURRRRR-**CLACK!**_

"…………….."

I flip a light-switch on.

_Click!_

Cyborg's laboratory.

I've only seen one episode of Beast Boy's short-lived 'Space Trek' series, _or whatever_, that he starred in. But the best way I can describe Cyborg's living space is something akin to a sci-fi set on the very same t.v. show.

It is spotless. Clean. A shiny womb of metal and computer stations and dials.

Compartments conform to the walls and form panels of titanium polish.

The electrical stations and hook-up junctions hang down on robot arms and possess a potential grace of glide and drift, but presently lie silent.

I walk into the echoing emptiness of the chamber while Cyborg is gone.

And it is like I can hear him.

There is a naturalness to Cyborg's voice….absent of a grotesque, robotic ringing. But somewhere in the traces of his words and the sway of his gesturing arms…

I can _smell_ something that is resonating here.

I can feel it.

Pale fingers running over crystal-clean metal.

Like the curves in his titanium fingers when he gives me a hand.

When he hoists me and the other teammates out of danger.

Cyborg has his temper…..like any other boy his age….

But he has so much happiness.

So much joy and well-being.

A selfless supporter in times of trouble…..

It rarely ever occurs to us that he has suffered so much.

Perhaps because we've never pried.

And it's not like it isn't obvious.

All it takes is a glance at any part of his 'body', and one can see the _scars_.

But….

Cyborg is so well-to-do.

And he spends so much time not only being helpful….but gaining so much strength and accomplishment _by being_ such a strong and dependable cornerstone for the team.

To fixate on his loss…..or to _make him fixate_ on his loss…..Only defeats the purpose of his existence nowadays.

I have never admitted it.

But now….

Gliding slowly through the metal perfection of his 'heart'…..

…..I know that Cyborg is living proof that my friends are nowhere near as shallow as I am.

They have long recovered from the wounds to their existence.

They have achieved peace…….and acceptance of themselves.

And that…..

That makes me ashamed of myself.

Moreover for ever assuming—for whatever selfish reason—that I was constantly a few rungs higher up on the ladder.

Truth is painfully humbling.

I stand next to Cyborg's empty lab table.

I run a hand over the cold hard metal.

A chill runs through my body.

And I exhale.

_There have been times when—after the heat of Battle—Cyborg has literally carried me out of danger._

And those spare moments……suspended in his arms……

I've never felt so protected before in my life.

Nor have I felt so trusted.

_He is a big brother to me……A big brother to us all._

But like Robin, he isn't here.

This….

_This is pointless._

I turn around swiftly…

And shuffle out of the laboratory.

……

……

"………………."

In the Main Room….

I stand and stare.

The communication station rests in the waning gray light of the day.

Nothing has changed.

Nothing has arisen.

No blinking lights.

No strobing sound.

Nothing at all.

Nothing to suggest a response to my page.

"…………………"

I fold my arms.

"…………………."

I turn and gaze out the window.

Grayness…..turning to a darker hue.

The shadows of my life collecting together and breathing cold vapor against the open windows.

I shudder.

With a last lonely look towards the dormant communication station, I turn.

I leave.

……

……

Beast Boy's room smells.

Moldy socks.

Fungus-laden pizza.

Maybe a little bit of both combined.

Or at least…..it would normally be fragrant with such….

….had my cleaning frenzy not aided in that two days ago.

The place is now a spotless perfection.

Exotically trimmed down to the bunkbed, the desk, the closet, and a few gaming stations in between.

I have always wondered—from the few **extremely **_**scant**_ occasions I have ventured inside Beast Boy's putrid domain—why he possesses a bunk bed made for two people instead of one.

He's given us excuses on occasion…..

Over many a pizza outing or movie night….

That sometimes he sleeps as different animals….each requiring different heights to scale when going to bed or waking up.

But I think the answer is much more pitiful than that.

Beast Boy has always struck me as someone who is missing something extensive in his life.

Sarcastically—_yes, perhaps rudely_—I have suggested that he's missing a good many brain cells.

But of course it goes further than that.

It doesn't take an empath to know that there is an element of family torn from Beast Boy's existence.

Whether it's been his mother, his father, both, or a sibling….

I've come to realize that the extra bed space means the resting spot for a ghost or two of some sort.

That Beast Boy never truly wants to sleep alone…..Or think that he is sleeping alone….

Or perhaps he never wants to forget that he _is_ alone.

It could mean anything.

But, simply put, that bunk-bed alone makes Beast Boy's room a _creepier_ place than my domain will ever be.

I don't think he's willing to admit that….not anytime soon….

It's easy to sympathize with him.

_But…._

_One has to be honest._

I shuffle across the room.

I come to a stop by his desk.

I glance down.

An aged toy monkey with cymbals sits-grinning-by a pencil holder.

I pick the furried thing up and turn it over in my hand.

Breathing…..

_How could anyone accept anything less………_

_Than a happy, cheerful Beast Boy?_

How?

I swallow.

I place the toy monkey back down.

For whatever absurdity randomly inspires me, I 'pat its head' before turning around and making my shuffling exit.

_I could do without an annoying Beast Boy._

But—as preachy as I may be—I am the last person in this universe to ever……EVER……steal anything more from him.

No matter how much he might hurt himself with what he 'has'.

……

……

Starfire's room has a smell to it.

Something that no amount of cleaning frenzies can remove.

And, honestly, that isn't much of a bad thing.

Her room is fragrant of all the perfumes, fruits, and ambrosias that one could imagine being indicative of an ultra feminine, little-girl's room.

Which leads me to think that Starfire—in her overtly alien ways—is more of a 'true girl' than any Terran woman who has ever existed or does exists or will exist on the face of the earth.

The pink…._Dear Azar, the pink_….

Everything about the draperies, the beddings, the carpet, the vanity…..it's all so blasted **loud**.

And in a way, Starfire herself is very loud.

'Softly loud', if that makes any sense.

She is so blatantly nice, selfless, and kind…..that many of the Titans have long pondered the true nature of her intentions long before Terra ever entered our lives with her own brand of villainy.

But if it's one thing that Starfire has taught us over time, it's that there _can_ be people in this universe whom we can trust and whom we can surrender ourselves to with no…..absolutely **no** fear of reprisal or betrayal.

Too much of Starfire doesn't _feel_ like a good thing. I think that's why Robin pushes her away like he does and Cyborg and Beast Boy leave her personality as it is and don't bother digging into her character or her past or the obvious pains that she constantly represses under her warming, passionate exterior.

And I…..

I wander into the room.

Bathed in a low, warm glow of fuchsia.

I've been in Starfire's room a few times since the Titans started.

And everytime I've ventured in, I've made it my quickest priority to exit out of the domain.

But now…..

Now I linger….

And I find myself drifting over to the round, pink bed in the center of the room.

The odd Tamaranian design of the sleeping quarters.

I take a deep breath.

I sit down on the edge of the covers and finger the ruffled edges of one of Starfire's pillows.

"……………………"

_I envy you, Starfire._

What you have………is a meditation in and of itself.

Just any other person would have crumbled in on her or himself after so many years of repressed feelings.

_  
But you……_

You hide your pain so easily.

And you manage to transfer your own fears and your own inadequacies into a power that protects and warms others around you.

And you are so nonchalant about it.

So peaceful………without strain……

What have you been doing all these years that I haven't?

I close my eyes.

Hidden in the dim light, I take the pillow and hug it to my chest.

_What has everyone been doing all these years that I've gotten wrong?_

_Why is everyone around me—in spite of their emotional baggage—so together and so on top of things……_

……_while I—the poster child for collective mental energy—is standing on the edge of a knife all of the sudden?_

That's just it………

The 'suddenness'……

This week……This damnable week and everything about it……

For some reason or another, it's highlighting the worst and best in me.

And I cannot stand long under its collapsing weight.

I'm pathetic.

I'm thin.

I'm………I'm……

I bite my lips.

I hug the pillow tighter.

There's a shaking in my shoulders.

_I miss……_

_I-I miss…………………_

"………………………………………."

I sigh.

I exhale long and hard.

"………………………………………"

I put the pillow back where it belongs.

I smooth the bedsheets as if they're disturbed temple grounds.

I stand up.

I adjust my blue robe and hood.

I exit out of the room.

I leave it and its damn pinkness.

_The smell of security._

The traces of……….

……

……

"……………………….."

I sit.

I stare.

Arms softly folded.

Body scrunched in the blue-shadowed confines of myself.

Swallowed by the chair.

"…………………………"

The communication station is silent.

The computers not even droning.

The signals dead…..the lines quiet.

No message.

No relay.

No life.

"……………………………"

I take a deep breath.

I close my violet eyes.

_Aqualad isn't calling………_

I hug myself gently.

My eyes reopen, but they gaze unenthusiastically towards the corners of my vision.

_It's just as well._

Last night……

Last night was just a fluke of impulse.

He's……too busy.

Too important for useless 'chit-chat'.

And……

Who am I to care about that anyways?

'Chit-Chat' indeed……

"……………………………"

I glance at the communication console.

I blink.

I eye the dials and instruments.

My fingers twitch.

_I………_

I could try paging him again.

But……

I wince.

My jaw clenches.

I run a hand over my face…..through my blue hair….

And sigh……

_No._

I'm not that desperate.

No need to go for a new low.

I swivel about in the chair.

I practically hop into a slumped, standing position in the middle of the Main Room.

But……so certain as I've been to actually walk somewhere….

I find myself motionless.

Stuck like my feet are in concrete.

My arms hidden in the cape-like folds of my draping robe.

"………………………………."

I inhale…..and sigh it all out.

For half a minute.

And….

I deflate.

"……………………………….."

The open windows breathe in more frigid air through the room.

An iciness sticks to my skin.

Like dew drops below zero….finding the little hairs along my pale epidermis.

I lower my eyelids and sort of……._drift forward._

_It is so cold in here._

So cold, and……

Azar save me, I miss………

I miss…………………

"………………………………….."

……

……

I stand in a hallway.

Blue and steel-slated.

Ever cold and ever muted.

I stare out a tinted window onto the dying world.

The grayness that descends on it….turning into a slate dull black with age.

The skyscrapers sink in on themselves and the shadows they constitute.

It is a lovely sight, and for some reason it fails to move me.

_Perhaps because I have always seen the creepiness and the darkness in life as a parallel to me….but always bordered off by a bizarre barrier of sorts._

And it comes to my attention that barriers are a common part of my life.

That is something I have always known—truth be told—and something I have moreover been proud of.

But pride is only as long as one's life reigns supreme, and even that is a long time for such feelings to last.

In all my preparation for ultimate doom and disastrous fate on the horizon….

Have I truly awoken to the horror of myself?

Or have I just stared at it from beyond a barrier?

Preserving myself with a false sense of security?

A hypocritical manifestation of everything the clerics of Azar have taught me?

Why now……why now am I stressing over it?

_Why all of this sudden 'now-ness'? Is it that I've reached the fulcrum of my life and………_

And just am not willing to accept it?

_All these things coming and crashing together………_

What am I supposed to do?

What am I supposed to do………?

…………………am I supposed to do anything?

"……………………"

I take a deep breath.

I rest my forehead against the glass of the window.

And I shut my eyes.

"…………………."

……

……

"…………………"

I open my eyes.

The wind blows at my blue strands of hair.

The blue sweat-jacket that I am wearing.

The light blue jeans.

I'm standing on the edge of the Tower's rooftop.

Gazing out at the softly shadowing evening.

The grayness…..now tangible.

Immersive.

The breeze.

The air.

The empty nakedness of it all.

I take a deep breath.

I stretch a foot out.

I walk off the edge of the Tower.

And….

I drift.

I float outward.

Levitating…..gliding…….sliding towards the gray land across the grayer waters.

It is cold this evening.

Very cold.

But I glide against it anyway.

The evening darkens.

Turns black against gray.

The queer bursts of strobing lightning in the distance—minus the thunder—announces the mood of the drizzly night.

I can feel the moisture inside of me as well as outside.

Everything belonging to one.

Yet held separately….withheld and carried off for the simple challenge of it.

The nuances of life.

And before I know it…..

……

……

Night has fallen.

The stars….the invisible streamers of the cosmos.

I hear a roaring in my ears.

And…..I must be at the beach.

The shores of life always feel like the end of the world to me.

I know that I have gone above and beyond even what the dancing horizon holds secret.

But it still provokes me into thought.

Into an oblivion of self.

Into…….

"……………………"

I'm standing on a boardwalk.

Gazing into the dancing starlight glitters of what must be the 'Bay'.

I know that I am standing here.

But…..

I feel like I'm adrift on the astral plane.

I'm only tethered to this soul inside of me.

I'm dangling about it like a fly on a leash.

And…..for that matter….._have I ever been properly attached to myself?_

_  
Properly grounded?_

To this person……this body……this reality………

I take a deep breath.

I sigh and close my eyes.

"………………………"

Music.

"……………………?"

Music….

Sweet and melodic.

I open one violet optic at a time.

I turn my head and stare northward.

Along the dock.

Towards the gray splotch of land against the dark sea and dark sky.

And I see…

A splotch.

Bright and flickering.

A bonfire encircled by bodies.

Seated and swaying.

A rhythmic drifting.

Young faces……young voices….

I…..

I have seen them before.

Throughout the week.

Various walks.

The evening of indulgement.

They….

They are still there.

And in the center of them….closest to the fire…

….seated with the guitar…..

"……………"

I clench my fingers….unflex them….and bring them up to my jacket's hood.

I place the jacket over my head, doubly-shroud my features, and shuffle forward.

Stepping along the dock.

Towards where the asphalt and sand meet the wooden planks.

And the bonfire increases in size in my gaze.

And the song grows louder and louder.

More and more real.

And I realize….that the group isn't singing.

Only one of them is.

The young man….the same one with the guitar.

Bushy brown hair….round-framed glasses over his eyes….

A face that is young, happy, and sad all at once.

But altogether….

_Peaceful._

By the time I've analyzed it, I realize that I've walked across the sand….

And now stand in the aura of the heated bonfire.

I can feel the warmth….the flickering frames….

And that of the bodies of strangers….

Strangers to me, but--

Teenagers, all of them.

High schoolers, perhaps those who know each other….

Or maybe they don't.

Or maybe they don't care….

As another song starts……

….I see a boyfriend and girlfriend sitting together, arm in arm.

The boyfriend looks up and sees me in particular.

The first real eye contact in days.

"Hey! Come join us!" he chuckles.

"Hehehe! The more the merrier!"

"………..," I fidget where I stand. The sweatjacket does a good job hiding my features. The night—in spite of the bonfire's light—hides my trademark pale skin. _They don't know who I am._ "Uhhh….s-sure….."

"Hehe! It's a free country!"

"No need standing around and getting cold!"

"Yeah….," I swallow and shuffle about before nervously finding a seat…..somewhere. "Th-Thanks…."

"You new to this City?"

"Well….n-not exactly…."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Greg. This is Heather. Over there's Viki, Meryl, Howard, Frank—"

"Greg, don't bother introducing EVERYONE again. It takes forever!"

"Awww….all right."

"Shhh! He's starting again!"

"Heh heh….Curtis, man of the hour!"

The guitar starts again. And I'm startled by how loud it is. I glance aside and realize that I've seated myself down just to the very left of the brown-haired guitarist.

He strums his acoustic tool and spills forth a melodic tune.

Melancholy….a ballad….

With a Country sway to it that is unmistakable.

And indicative of the inner vapors of the earth, all the same.

I glance halfway at him….and stare halfway at the fire…

My soul being carried aloft and afloat in the dancing flames.

The happy warmth of oblivion.

And he sings.

He sings….

_I came into this world all alone  
__And I always thought that's how I would leave  
__But then you came along  
__And suddenly the coldness deep inside of me was gone_

_And I cried...  
__But I wouldn't let you see my tears  
__And I sighed...  
__But I wouldn't let you hear  
__I'm so happy I could die  
__Friends for life_

_For years we laughed and smiled together  
__But of course the bad times were there, too  
__We both said some things we didn't mean  
__And it hurt just to hide how much I love you_

_And I cried...  
__But I wouldn't let you see my tears  
__And I sighed...  
__But I wouldn't let you hear  
__I'm so sad I could die  
__But we're friends for life_

_We had our fights and made up again  
__Once again I was yours and you were mine  
__Somehow we conquered all our fears  
__But we could never beat Father Time_

_And I cried...  
__But you couldn't see my tears  
__And I sighed...  
__But I know you couldn't hear  
__I'm so sad and happy I could die  
__'Cause we're no longer friends for life...  
__We're friends forever._

The song ends, and I'm still gazing into the flames.

As if looking across the bedroom after waking up from a dream.

And everything's so warm.

And everything's so real.

So…

So _true_…..

There is a clapping of hands.

The many youths around me cheer and murmur in appreciation.

_"Well done, Curtis."_

"That was a beauty."

"You wrote that overnight?"

"Heh…..yeah, more or less."

"_Brought a tear to my eye……Why don't you do it again, but impersonate John Lennon?"_

"Go to Hell, Frank."

"_Heheheheh!"_

Before I know it, the group has meandered off into random conversations and a mumbling of voices.

Some blonde girl across the flames puts her mouth to a harmonica and lets a tune waft up to the warm, flickering ashes of the bonfire.

Greg and Heather giggle, lean against each other, and whisper sweet nothings.

Someone in another cluster tells a joke, and the others roar in laughter.

It is a circle of existence….throbbing right at the edge of the universe.

And I hear a few gentle strummings of the acoustic.

"So….," the voice that was once singing now speaks to me. "…..your first night in the Nobody Club?"

"……….." I blink. I glance aside at the brown haired guitarist. "I beg your pardon?"

His calloused fingers wander the strings, finding bizarre cords and experimenting harmoniously while he speaks to me as well. Quite the achievement. "Guess that answers that. This is the Nobody Club."

"…….really…."

"Yup. Because Nobody here knows who Nobody is."

"……….but…..those two…the lovebirds, they—"

"Of course, some people have taken it upon themselves to break a few rules," he half-frowns, then pleasantly returns to his strumming. "But….no biggie. If we had a bunch of rules and crap, we wouldn't be much of a 'Nobody Club' anyways."

"Heh…….I guess….."

"My name's Curtis….But I'm guessing you already know that."

"Yeah, I gathered."

"But who I am….it doesn't matter…..Just like who you are or who anyone else here is…..doesn't matter."

"…………….."

"I'm sorry…heh heh heh….did I lose you?"

"I think you did….," I run a hand through a few strands of blue hair under my shadowing hood. "But….maybe that's the whole point?"

"Yup," he nods, strumming and gazing at his guitar. "We all have our own lives all across the City. But a year or two ago, we just started coming here and figuring….no questions asked, no problems, you know?"

"Mmmhmmmm…."

"We get together here at this spot every few days, and all we can do is just drift. We don't bother with our own lives. We don't pry. We just accept life at face value. The pretty things of life, ya know? The things we can joke about and sing about. And…And…."

"It's an escape, I know."

"Oh, but what's truly an escape? This moment here—sitting around the fire—or the other lives we live? By routine? The simple lever-pull of daily existence?"

"It's different for everyone, I imagine," I say. "I think that….." I wince. "……Escape is a really superficial thing."

He glances at me through the corner of his glasses. "You say that with a hesitancy, I gather……"

I shudder. "What's one Nobody to ask of a Nobody?"

"Heh heh heh….anything a Nobody's willing to ramble about!"

"………………"

"………………"

"………………," I slowly….softly hug my knees to my chest. I lean my chin against my curled legs and sigh. "…………have you ever felt….th-that…….th-that you've come to the point where everything you have ever learned or everything you have ever believed in about yourself comes crashing down like a house of cards at the slightest push of the most insignificant thing?"

He nods. "Absolutely. Only bleeding artists sing around bonfires these days. Heh heh heh…."

My lips curve somewhat…then melt back into obscurity. "I have spent so many years of my life….hardening myself. With pride…..self preservation…..and a strict code of unemotional necessity."

"Uh huh…..I-I think I read you….."

"…………just one week……..one week without my friends………..and suddenly all I've ever practiced or put together has turned out to be nothing……"

He strums his guitar a little. "These are people the Nobody feels close to?"

"I can't help but feel close to them. Even if I wouldn't want to."

"But do you want to?"

"……………………"

"Heh……….On another subject, did you like my song?"

I nod. "Yeah." I glance at him, a slight smirk. "But that's not another subject."

"Oh? Wanna clarify, Miss Nobody?"

"I-I too came into this world 'alone'…..in that I had to learn to be alone…..for personal reasons."

"Mmmhmmm….."

"But…..when my friends came into my life…..I didn't make it a habit to seek them for warmth. For completeness….for something to live for."

"But you couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"………………."

"Listen…..it's fun being a Nobody," the young man tunes his strings and gazes into the fire. "It's fun coming here every other night…..trying to forget the troubles in your life…..trying to get over the mistakes you may have made with people you've grown to know……but somebody can only be alone for so long. For….F-For so long as that person's got a breath, ya know what I mean? God or no God…..Essence or no Essence……we're all alive for a _reason_. And even if we never know what that reason **is**, doing anything BUT taking advantage of what 'living' has to offer seems—well—pretty dang pathetic if you ask me. No offense, of course, I'm not making any judgment calls…."

"Of course."

He goes on: "You can be a Nobody forever….and never truly know what life is or what life offers. But….in a lot of ways….Life takes prisoners, and we can't stop the incessant pull to love and be loved. And why should we try and stop it? In all actuality, it's Life that should be given the most attention. Life and all the maniacal warmth it embodies. Being a Nobody is good for a short spell….but trying to do it all the god-forsaken time is—well—not healthy."

"You don't say…."

"I used to come here EVERY night. Damn-near made myself a hobo. It was pretty pathetic. And I learned that there was stuff in my real life that…..needed more attention. That I should stop running. That I should stop trying to escape."

"What…….What if the things we're running from…..a-are things we can't escape?"

"………………"

I hug my knees tighter to my chest and shudder.

"……………….I think…..," his hands rest against the wooden frame of the acoustic. Slowly, he smiles a soft smile. "I think…….that everything we ever consider running from is inescapable anyways. No matter who the Nobody is. And sometimes you gotta just stand and raise your fist against that thing you're running from….if even for the simple absurdity of how pointless it all is. Because it seems twice as absurd to reduce your life to nothing…..simply in the act of trying to avoid 'nothingness' itself. For—in the end—the thing we're all afraid of is the end of all things that continue. And while things _still can continue_, they might as well continue for the better. For ourselves….and the stupid yahoos we've been forced to fall in love with because of familiarity."

"Hmmm-Hmmm-Hmmmm," I hum forth a chuckle and sigh. "That makes sense….."

"Father Time is going to find us one way or another."

I shudder at that.

"……….I like to think I've learned to stop running from things and accept that. These nights here as a Nobody now for me are simply what they are….a cosmic reboot of my soul. And—Hell—I do write some damn good songs from the whole thing!"

"Heh heh….you do."

"Yeah, I bet."

"…………………"

"…………………."

"…………………."

"…………………."

"………………….I miss my friends."

"…………………?"

"I miss them so much."

"Hmmm?" he turns and looks my way.

But I have my face buried in my knees. And I sit there. Still as a statue. Not even a hiccup.

My hood has fallen free of my head, and the blue strands melt before the fire.

I know he can see my trademark hair and pale skin.

And…….

And he doesn't say anything.

I can almost see the knowing smile on his face as I hear the guitar cords pick up again.

But I don't bother looking at him.

My eyes are too busy tearing up for me to see anything.

……

……

An hour and a half later.

The Nobody Club disassembles.

I'm walking alone.

Away from the site.

My hands in my sweatjacket's pockets.

I glance up across the Bay.

At the distant Tower.

My eyes are dry now.

But the sensation of my breaking is still there.

And somehow….

Somehow it doesn't hurt me anymore.

Truth is only painful at the threshold.

The point of impact.

_And it was all……so very true._

I gently smile in spite of myself.

_So very true._

And so very pathetic.

I close my eyes and let myself drift up….up….up into the air.

Homeward.

_But……_

A girl like me can bask in that truth for once.

For it's considerably saner than chaos.

……

……

_I miss you, friends._

I miss each and every one of you.

_And……_

I'll miss you for life, if need be.

……

……

Chaos has a half life, Friday.

* * *

Special Thanks to Lord Belgarion for his 'Friends for life, Friends forever' lyrics.  
See you in space, Cowboy. 


	48. Sat

﻿

**Saturday**

Morning arises on lapping waters.

I do not remember going to sleep.

I do not remember waking up.

In all honesty, I do not try to at all.

I am walking along the beach of the Island.

The Sun is rising and the gray clouds—however in abundance—are gradually splitting like minnows before a stone.

I walk through the shallow surf. My sandaled feet dip femininely in and stick to the muck for half a second before prying loose in all ease and glory.

And then I walk, rinse, and repeat….

With the roar of the world lapping up to my ears.

Freezing and melting me at the same time.

The ever present end of the universe that giggles across the precipice of our everydays.

I hum to it.

In a gentle, low-key voice.

Exhaling gently through my lips.

Lips that….

Do not stress over either frowning or smiling.

They simply exist.

As I exist.

Mellow, content, melancholy….

…..emotions are categories.

A restrictive barrier to simple thinking.

All my years I have stressed over stress.

And it has made a woman out of me, for better or for worth.

But am I more or less a perfect organism?

I come to a stop.

The open, poofy sleeves of a jacket flare in the wind.

I take a deep breath.

I kneel down in the breeze.

Squatting over the waves that taste my knees.

I dip a finger into the saline brine.

I swirl it around.

The tingly touch of time….

_All my life._

I have lived as a Nobody.

Which……is all well and fine, considering my necessities……and my intentions.

But the one payoff………the one thing that has kept me from going insane all these years as the Nobody I have been………

Are these absurd Somebodies that I have lived with.

And perhaps they are what I need……and what I have always needed………to balance myself out.

My teammates………my **friends**………

Both joyous and punishing in existence………

They are the best meditation I could ever ask for.

My humming comes to a stop.

I take a deep breath.

I stick my entire hand into the surf and palm the wet sand underneath.

_Azar knows………_

Such unconscious help on their behalf……

_  
Is all the support I would ever conceivably **ask** for……_

And my lips slowly……..slowly curve—

A rumbling sound.

Light….but growing weightier.

Vibrating the air.

"………………?"

I turn around and glance up towards the Tower.

My blue strands drift in the wind.

My violet eyes narrow.

An orange and black craft is hovering down and landing on the ceiling of the Tower.

Jet exhaust and light fumes exhale from the craft…and dissipate.

After a pause……the five hatches of the familiar craft open up, and five violently familiar figures leap jubilantly out and onto the rooftop's surface.

"……………………………………………………………………………………"

……

……

_SCHWISSH!_

I walk through the elevator doors and into the Main Room.

And I squint—

"Boo-Ya! Right where I left it! I tell ya….leftover lasagna is always the best the longer you keep it leftover!"

"Ew, dude! That's—like—a WEEK!"

"Yeah? And? Not like you're itching to taste any of the meat anyways, little man!"

"Probably rotten up the wazoo….like your SENSE OF APPETITE IS!"

"Oh grow some muscles. Robin, you want a bite?"

"No thank you. I need to spend time on the Titan Computer and report out run-ins with Brother Blood. Maybe try and contact BumbleBee again and give her an updated schematic on the functionings of Steel City."

"Aren't you even gonna unpack and stuff first? We just got back, dawg!"

"Do what you want, Cyborg. You've earned some time off. I……have to do a little research first."

"Pffft…whatever you say, Robbie."

"Dudes, is it just me….or does the Tower _always_ smell 'different' after spending such a long time away from home?"

"But Beast Boy, it is precisely the same collection of scents and fragrances that have always been associated with the interior of our large-scale domain!"

"Human noses aren't quite as on par with things like Tamaranian noses, Star."

"So? Turn into a dog or something and stop complaining!""I'm not complaining! Sheesh!"

"Hee hee hee!"

"And—is it just me, or has the Tower become……..a heck of a lot cleaner since last time we were here?"

"Yeah, man. I just noticed that. The kitchen is like SPOTLESS."

"Friends, did we not make a decent attempt to establish a working order of the place before departing for Steel City?"

"We're never that spot-on, Star. It's like a cleaning crew walked through here with a mountain of mops and rags. I swear to God…"

"Hoooo boy, if I find all my tunes have been alphabetized, I'm going to start taking n—"

"Oh! Hey there, cutie!"

_It is Cyborg._

"Did our impromptu return wake you up from the dead?" Cyborg smiles. "Eh heheheheh."

"Hehehehehehe!" Beast Boy giggles. "Good one, Cy! Man, that never gets old!"

"…………….," I stare at them all. "………..did you…..call before arriving?"

_"We did!"_ Robin grunts from the background, typing madly away at the computer console while Starfire opens the windows one at a time behind him. _"But there was no answer. Honestly, I wasn't worried……"_

"Yeah, we figured you were sleeping or something," Cyborg shrugs from behind the kitchen counter. "Which is cool. Or else you could have invited over a special guy-friend—"

"Or two," Beast Boy snickers.

"---which we would be too freaked out by to ever loathe you for it……………..Snkkkt…..Hahahahaha!"

"Hehehehehehe!"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

I take a deep breath….close my eyes….and slowly hum forth a drone: "Grow……..Up……"

"Heheheheh….NEVER! Ha ha ha!"

"Say, Cy! Any tofu burritos in the fridge still?"

"Man, you took them all with us a week ago, remember?"

"Eh…..yeah, okay."

Cyborg resumes fishing through the refrigerator.

Beast Boy examines his stack of CDs.

Robin types away at the computer.

I stand at the front of the Main Room.

My hands hanging by my side.

I watch.

I gaze.

I stare at them all.

I make to turn around towards the elevator—

"R-Raven?"

I stop.

I turn.

"Hmmm….Starfire?"

She stands in front of me, dressed in a red sweater and gray jeans. She holds her far arm with a hand in a humble posture and looks at me with her head craned to the side. "It is……glorious to see you again, Raven…..," she says in a gentle voice. Perhaps afraid. Perhaps gauging me.

Or perhaps………

Perhaps all I can do is stare back.

Her lips curve slightly. She reveals something that was in her hanging hand's grasp. "Of the scant times we had to rest and relax in between tackling Brother Blood's minions, I managed once to acquire this from one of the novel-of-the-tea shops in downtown Steel City. It made me think of you…."

She hand it to me.

I take it gently in my pale grasp.

I raise an eyebrow.

It's a statuette. An obsidian bird. A raven….almost. It is made of a polished, reflective metal.

"Mmmmm………It's……..A bird."

"Hehe….yes," Starfire folds her hands together and smiles warmly. "It is made of smelted steel ore. It is the heart of the City."

"Imagine that….."

Her green eyes hang to the side. "I thought of you alone in the Tower….far across the Continent……without us…."

I glance up at her. My lips purse a little…

"I…..I-I know you must have thoroughly enjoyed your solitude, and that our absence was a great blessing to your meditation…."

I clench my jaw.

"…..but I wanted you to know that—as far away as I was from you—I still had all my dearest friends in my heart. And that includes you, Raven. So, I hope you enjoy something from the heart of Steel City. For it truly made me think of you."

"I………Uhm…….Th-Thanks, Star……..I don't know what to say….."

I blink.

I hold my breath.

For the world has suddenly turned warm.

Starfire is hugging me. Gently. "I missed you," she says gently. With a smile. "Hee hee….I will not pester you further. But it is wonderful to see and bee with you again, friend Raven."

Starfire lets go and makes to go to Robin's side.

But there's a problem…..

……………she can't move.

Her lips purse in a concerned breath.

"R-Raven?"

"……………" I am still holding onto her. The hug has not ended. My head gazes dead over her shoulder. My eyes are thin. I stay that was….I freeze the frame with my heartbeat against her. "……………"

"…………Raven?" She gulps. She places her hands on my shoulder and looks me in the face. "Is everything okay?"

"…………………………………."

"…………………….if……….if you need me…….I'll be in my room….."

Gently, I turn around.

I shuffle into the Elevator.

And as Starfire watches in silent awe….

I close the doors.

And ascend.

Hugging myself.

Turning the black bird over in my hands.

Descending.

Descending.

Returning……

_The noise…………_

They're making so much noise through the walls………

As my vision turns foggy, I close my eyes and tilt my head towards the heavens.

_I can feel them………_

I can feel them, Saturday……


	49. Trim

﻿

"Duuuudes! Check it out! Hehehehehe!" Beast Boy waltzes/sashays his way into the Main Room and pumps his biceps dramatically before running both palms up along the lateral sides of a freshly 'sheered' head of green hair. "I'm too sexy for my sideburns! Too sexy for my sideburrrrrrns!"

Cyborg glances up, smirks, and flips a page in the comic book he's reading at the kitchen table. "Don't go there, little man. 'Beast Boy' and 'sexy' are two train cars that just DON'T BELONG on the same track, ya dig?"

"Pffft!" Beast Boy sticks his tongue out and strikes another pose, snapping his fingers Fonze-style. "Nuts to you, spark-plug-in-the-grass! You should be jealous of me! Because I _can_ grow hair! And because I _can_ do whatever I want with it! And because I _can—"_

"Yo! Knock it off before I sock it off!" Cyborg barks. "So you got a bit of a trim today while out on the town. Big deal. Doing nothing but gettin' somebody to lower your ears only makes you psuedo-handsome at best."

"Uhh…..would you mind translating that for the nerdy-impaired?"

"Hair isn't always where it's at, little man," Cyborg flips a page. "Most of the time it's appearance, charm, class—"

"What do _you_ know? I don't see a darn follicle anywhere on your body! Even your nostrils are clean!"

"I'll have you know I _AM HAIRY!"_

Beast Boy winces. "Nnnngh….okay. Sorry I went there…."

"Seriously, dawg," Cyborg flips a page and shrugs. "I just…….ya know……..choose not do grow it out."

"Really……."

"Yup."

"Why's that, dude?"

"I tried a 'fro once. Only grew on the right side. THAT'S why!"

"Hehehehehehehe!"

"So—like—unless you wanted to be fighting alongside Frederick Douglas when taking on Overload…..or something akin to that bad dude in 'Unbreakable', I thought I might just leave it at Picard style. Seems to work on the few ladies I _do_ **ever so gracefully** offer my autograph to," Cyborg adds with a coy smirk.

"Dude….you in a 'fro….hehehehehehe!" Beast Boy bends over and slaps his knee.

"Just what the heck did you have done to your head anyways?"

"What? Don't tell me it's anything BUT righteous!"

"It's like you turned from Anakin Skywalker to Ethan Hawke to George Clooney overnight!"

"Uhm….th-that's a good thing, right?"

"Feh…..Whatever….."

"You don't believe in my funky-style ruggedness, do you?"

"Get facial hair first, man. Then you might be a good neighborhood block away from 'Rugged'."

"Pffft! What do you know, baldy! Go back to your manga hair fantasies."

Cyborg waves his comic book around and hisses: "This is DARK HORSE! It is _nowhere NEAR_ crossing the line of the Rising Sun!"

"Pffft….Whatever you say, Mister Dragonbell Zit."

"Man….."

"Cowboy Peacock…..Fun Metal Astronaut….whatever the heck it is you watch."

"Man, you don't know ANYTHING!"

"Hey Starfire, do you like—"

_SWOOOOOSH! **TH-THWUMP!**_ The Tamaranian has him in a deathly strong hug.

"Heeeeeeee!" she coos. "I love it! It is most endearing and mature-looking!"

Beast Boy coughs, wheezes, and manages a weary smile. "R-Really? Mature?"

"Mmmmhmm," Starfire smiles and lets him go. She smiles with her hands cupped together and her head leaning to the side. "You resemble to me those televised Terran musicians of masculine youth whose skin look like immaculate polystyrene sheets and whose voices collectively exhibit an effeminate quality!"

"Erm……..," Beast Boy sweatdrops. "……_Boy Band members?"_

"Heee heee heee!" Starfire pumps an arm in a cheer with her eyes cutely shut. "Lance, the Fresh-Water Fish!"

"Er….Y-Yeah…..Uhm……Thanks…..I-I think…."

"Beast Boy…..if I may……," Starfire murmurs.

"H-Huh?"

She reaches behind him and feels the back of his head. "Hee hee! It is always so endearing the little short hairs on the back of Terran male heads!"

"Dude. Cyborg. Are you getting this?"

_"I'm telling Robin."_

"EEP! Uhm….St-Star?" Beast Boy holds Starfire's wrists and simpers. "Eh heh heh…..I'd love to stay and chat….b-but, uhm…..I must go and—like—mail Elasti-Girl some tofu or something."

"Mmmhmmm…I fare the well, Beast Boy. It has been a pleasure sharing the short hairs with you."

"Erm…..anytime!" Beast Boy walks off, rubbing the back of his neck and nervously murmuring. _"Man, I feel so dirty and so happy at the same time……"_

Starfire takes a deep breath, smiling. She turns about and shuffles over towards the sofas and chairs at the windows of the Main Room. "It is glorious to see him in such high spirits. I feel that the interaction with the Doom Patrol has heightened his personal awareness in such a positive manner."

"Mmmmhmmmm," I sit—swallowed up by a sofa. A paperback book is in my lap. I flip a page….left to right. "Though, don't be too hasty, Star," I murmur and adjust my robe some. "A haircut doesn't really mean anything these days."

"That is an unfortunate thought," Starfire frowns. She then returns a smile with hopeful vigor. "Was not Beast Boy more handsome than usual?"

"……….eh."

"………………well….," Starfire fidgets. "…..someone within this Tower should give him the honor of noticing…"

My lips curve slightly. I flip another page and glance at her. "But it's neither one of us, Star. So….who would it be?"

"Erm….well—"

"Robin?"

"Eeep!" Starfire gasps. "Do not insinuate that!"

"Insinuate what?"

"…….n-not……..n-not that my people have anything of distaste in regards to such, of course!" she nervously blushes.

"Don't sweat it, Starfire. I was only teasing you…."

She squints at me suspiciously. "I fear that there is more at hand here than Beast Boy's descent of the auditory sensors…."

"'Lowering of the ears'?"

"Indeed," Starfire points at me. "You strike me as far more jubilant than…..erm…..your normal level of 'jubilation'…."

"Like I've told you before, Star….," I flip a page. "……finally facing Trigon like I did for the first time really……really took a lot out of me." I take a deep breath and murmur. "….._took a lot out that I didn't want to have boiling over….."_

"Wonderful!" she claps her hands together and smiles at me. "Then you are…..happier?"

"I'm no less intelligent than I was beforehand," I murmur.

"…..I beg of your pardon?"

"Nothing," I sigh and flip a page. "Don't worry about me, Star. I'm Otherwise you would have insisted of my departure from your presence multiple seconds ago."

My temple pulses with a throbbing artery. "Still ticking……"

"I know!" Starfire brightens—as always. "Hee hee—You should also endeavor upon a new hairstyle!"

"I don't think my hair can go any shorter than it already is without making oafish fanboys have second thoughts……."

"Quite the opposite, friend Raven!" Starfire grins. "Would not a more lengthy look be of great appeal to you?"

"…………Starfire, you know I hate having long hair."

"But you have not truly given it a chance….," Starfire looks sad. "Such a shiny, silken blue….it does wonders to accentuate your grace and prestige that you so beautifully possess, Raven…"

I sigh. Long and hard. "Thanks, Starfire…..but I just don't do long hair…"

"May I inquire as to the reason behind such?"

"It's uncomfortable."

"Only if you let it be!" she chimes with a smile.

I glare at her over my book. "………I let a lot of things be uncomfortable."

"Ohhhhh….I know!" she groans. "Perhaps if I was to give you some tips—"

"**No**, Starfire……this is the way it is…..," I absent-mindedly run a hand through my blue bangs. "…..this is the way it stays…."

"_Darn straight it does! Cuz otherwise we wouldn't have that stubborn little strand with a mind of its own, cutie!"_

"……..," my teeth grind as I glare in Cyborg's direction. "Starfire…..If you would be so kind as to experiment with the myth of Cyborg's genitalia with your starbolts….."

"I know!" Starfire shuffles over on the edge of the sofa she is sitting on. "I can endeavor to make us match!"

"Nnnngh….lovely…."

"Seriously!" Starfire runs a hand through her crimson locks. "I could go for—as you humans call it—a perm! It could be curly…wavy….and be accentuated with clips on the side and a slight randimosity along the back of my neck! Similar, perhaps, to that one musician Beast Boy is always exalting! Gwen of the Stefani?"

"……………..," I slowly lower my book and stare questionably at Starfire. "……………cutting your hair…."

"Mmmhmm!"

"……………Starfire……you're thinking of cutting your hair…………"

"Hehehe….perhapssssss," she flutters her eyes.

"…………cutting…………….._your hair……………_"

"Erm……," Starfire blinks confusedly. "Is there something amiss with the way I relayed my intentions—"

"Starfire, don't cut your hair….," I drone.

"Huh?"

"Just…….," I shake my head and stare at her with thin eyes. "Just……..No. Don't."

"But….Raven? Why such blunt insistence?"

"You will not follow my advice, and yet you quite vehemently expect me to pursue yours?"

"It's not advice. It's righteousness. Don't cut your hair."

"……..I see…."

"It's just…..a malignant sin on all levels of ethical comprehension….."

"Am…….I t-to be complimented?" Starfire blushes.

"Believe me……Robin's happiness will be spared….."

"…………………..I see…….."

I flip a page. "I'm no stylist, but—"

"You are a wonderful friennnnnnd!" Starfire hugs me.

"…………nnngh," I groan and wait….wait….._wait……_

Gradually……._finally_…….Starfire relinquishes the hug. "So, may I inquire…..exactly what is it that you are reading?"

I flip a page and lift up the paperback.

"Evangelion." I look at her. "You want to check it out?"


	50. Hell

﻿

I'm hyperventilating.

And I can't stop.

For every breath is a sulfuric smell.

And I can taste _his_ seed.

And _their_ blood.

The blue titanium shells of Cyborg lie in a discarded circle around me.

Globs of red meat and intestines drape over my hands.

Smoking at the ragged ends.

The scent of the Titan mixes in with the rust around me….but soon fades away with the sounds of his screams.

Which are no more.

Blood and oil drapes over the crimson designs burned into my pale limbs.

It splotches my long blue hair.

It gets under my long, pointed claws and taints my barred teeth.

Four eyes flicker over my brow as I sit here.

Between the fire and the stone.

Shivering.

Soaked in death and titanium ash….

"**How did it feel, my daughter……?"**

I clench what's left of my real eyes shut.

I shake and I quake……

"**Did it taste just like Beast Boy……?"**

I bite my lip.

Breath hisses out through my teeth.

"……**.oh how they quivered when you sank your fingers into them……when you dug into their meat….."**

**"……………I am so proud of you…..for making it last so long…..so torturously long…….for each and every one of them…."**

Eyes tearing hot….I glare into the red horizon of the wasteland.

"I will NOT kill all of them!"

"**You have no choice, daughter. There are only two left now. And when you are done with them…..I shall use my dark powers to resurrect them. I will teach you to slay them over….and over……._and over_…..again…..for all eternity, you will be ravaging your friends for EVER….having resisted my entrance into this world in the past….."**

I shudder.

I try rubbing the blood and meat off my tattooed arms.

But the oil makes everything stick…

And stain….

And even my tears cannot wash them away.

The heat…

The sulfur….

"**You have been a very…..very…..bad child…….All those years you resisted me…..and you knew that this day would come. I do not understand why you fought it. But it matters not. This is your reward……My gift to you….for your brazened spirit….."**

I clamp my soggied hands over my face.

I shudder.

I sob…..

"**Everything you see….Everything you hear……..My dear Raven…..This is who you are. This is what you were born to be. If you refuse to accept it…..then your only impulse will be to scream at it…..But neither will make a difference…"**

I collapse into the pool of my friends.

I twitch and I convulse….Skin numb despite the frothing heat around me.

All I see are….

Buildings….

Mountains…

Seascapes…

Burning and boiling and climbing towards the red heavens.

And nothing but the shadow of my father to cool me in agony of this fire.

"**Remember always, my daughter. You and I are one…."  
**

I shudder.

"**This Paradise has been made possible through you….My precious door….My one key to victory….."**

I collapse into myself….

"**Soon your suffering sobs will turn to sing of exaltation in your father's honor. You will pay me the respect I deserve with your heart…..your soul……and with your body……"**

I hide my face in my shuddering limbs.

"……**your body……bathed in the blood of your kindred friends…….slain infinity times over………And….it…..will….please…..you….."  
**

I bite my own wrists and convulse.

I bite my wrists until the taste of my own blood mix with the oil and meat and sulfur….

_Mother, I want to stop existing._

I want to stop existing.

I want to stop existing……

"**Yesssssssss…….it will pleasssssse you….."**

_I want to stop existing………_

……………………………_please……_


	51. Numb

﻿

"Do you ever feel numb, Raven?"

I'm staring out the window of the front passenger side of the T-Car.

Small, quaint shop buildings and hedged edges of the City Park drift by in an early evening grayness.

"Mmm….Numb, Cyborg?"

He drives leisurely, his lands lightly hanging onto the wheel.

"Yeah….Numb….Like, with each passing day."

"…………….sounds like entropy to me."

"Heh…..I'm not doing technobabble. At least not now."

I slowly….delicately sigh. I rub my pale brow and lean further towards the window. Staring….

"What do you mean by numb, Cyborg?"

"When I was a kid….," he gestures with one hand while carefully coasting us through an intersection. "….the days seemed so long. Going to bed early was a torture…for the darkness of night just….promised so much mystery and intrigue. But these days—us being Titans and working around the clock and all—it just boggles my mind how short 'twenty-four hours' really is. Sometimes I feel like there's no time for time. The hours….the sunlight…the moonlight……….it's all like a watered-down soup sloshing back and forth in a hollowed out hourglass missing of its sand."

"Cyborg. We all grow old and grow familiar with things," I murmur and half-face him. "Whether it's attachment to routine or detachment from old norms….it's all really the same. We adapt."

"We '**decay**' is more like it…," Cyborg murmurs.

I shrug and look out the window again. "Well….no reason to be gloomy about it……"

A snickering.

I turn back and glare at him. "…..what?"

He's smirking somewhat. "I'd imagine **you** would be the one to choose gloom."

"…………..I never chose gloom in my life, Cyborg."

"……….never once……never would I ever……"

I take a long, deep breath and stare out the window. I murmur. "I don't feel like talking right now."

He answers me with silence.

The car rides on through the grayness.

I try to relax, but I can't help but count the seconds…..Count the seconds till Cyborg opens his mouth again. I know that I truly can't quiet him. He speaks whatever he wants….whenever he wants. Unlike Beast Boy, a good deal of what Cyborg has to ramble on about is decent and—sometimes—thought provoking.

_All right……more than sometimes……_

But it doesn't change the fact that I don't want to talk right now. In fact, I'm not entirely sure of what I want to do this second. I'm mesmerized by the passing blur of the gray world. It is something I can sleep to.

And I have been sleeping to an awful lot of things these days.

I really don't want to talk right now…but already I can empathically sense the emotions in Cyborg's body starting to rise…..and how it's about to erupt through his throat and out of his mouth. Something to comfort me, perhaps. Because I know he feels like he's opened a wound that isn't really there in me, though for all reasons and respects—it should be.

I want to spare him that anxiety. Cyborg doesn't deserve to feel so…..

I open my mouth before him: "Feeling 'numb' can mean anything, Cyborg. It could mean that you're presently bored or stressed over a particular issue in life. And—kind of like a mid-life crisis—you seek a way out of that debacle. And so you….you overanalyze the feelings you have and the level at which you notice your life progressing towards the inevitable mortal leap. And you start to have fears in having less time to do things and less energy to feel them with, and thus it starts to vex you and—like a true ailment—leaves you physically and psychosomatically affected. Thus, a psychobiological sense of 'numbness' best associated with a growing apathy in life that—regardless of your content or despairing condition upon death—will leave you no longer fearing the permanent veil of nonexistence when your life comes to an end—"

Cyborg is snickering.

"……..," I squint at him. "What's so funny….?"

He clears his throat, smiles crookedly, and glances aside at me. "Raven…..two thirds of my nervous system was obliterated in my _accident._ And ever since then, it's been degrading at a pace of exponential decrease. THAT…..is how I am 'numb'…..you dig?"

"Snkkkt-Hahahaha….your poor thing. I don't think we were on the same page here!"

"……………………," I fold my arms and stare out the window. "Whatever."

"Heheheheh……oh, come on, Raven. You can't be _that_ serious all the time!"

"………..right, Raven?"

"The next time I say I'm not in the mood for talking……let's not talk….."

"Heh….," he winks at me. "Tell that to yourself."

I bitterly drip forth without looking at him: "I am."

"……Oh…….uhm…….."

"……………………….."

Cyborg quietly drops the quiet car through the quiet evening….

We reach home, and I go straight to my room.

I don't talk to Cyborg again tonight.

I don't talk to anyone at all….


	52. Dreams

﻿

I know when the other Titans are dreaming.

Sometimes, if I can concentrate hard enough in the dead of night, I can see what is in their visions.

The rapid eye movement of tense crime fighting teenagers stuck in their own, blessed limbo of mind and thought…

It is where the soul squeezes free…..for lack of a better, poetic expression.

Robin's dreams are always running around in circles. Battle schematics, Titans Tower supply lists, equipment specifications, and other strings of data befitting a collation of files cycle through his brain. It is the signature of a young man plagued by anxiety and guilt within the shadow of responsibility. I can understand where Robin's anxiety comes from…..as being the leader of our team does evoke its own level of decent stress. The guilt—however—has yet to make itself known to me. But Robin _does_ wear a mask. Perhaps the answer isn't that complex at all.

Starfire would certainly know something to do about him. Her dreams often feature Robin in it. But-believe it or not—they do not necessarily have him playing the romantic role. But rather, Robin is almost always an outside-extra to Starfire's nightly visions. She sleeps soundly at night, despite the fact that many of her dreams froth about along the border of fear and uncertainty. At first, I've been inclined to believe that Starfire's dreams at night are the outlets for pessimistic and negative emotions that the Tamaranian girl refuses to indulge in on a daily basis. But I've since come to assume that—in all simplicity—Starfire has gone through a terrible deal of pain in her life. And her dreams are part of many different seams in her honestly complex personality….healing themselves…..

Beast Boy rarely ever dreams these days. He is far too incredibly happy. Ever since Terra has 'moved in' with us and joined the team, Beast Boy has been having all of his wishes fulfilled in the daytime. He doesn't joke around or goof off quite as much _(not that I miss that or anything) (and I don't)._ And I do not think it is because he is simply too occupied with Terra right now. Much rather, he's content in life….and he doesn't need so desperately to make up for it.

Unlike Cyborg, whose dreams are—by far—the most disturbing. He never tells this to anyone, but he wakes up screaming at least once a month….sometimes twice. And it must feel awkward to him, for he has attempted convincing us—his teammates—that he is incapable of sleep. And that his recharging on his lab bed in his room is—simply that. Recharging….and no biological shadow of his former self. Only, he _does_ dream…..and his dreams are of him losing his former self. At first—gaining back an arm or a limb. Then—at the last second, losing the limbs again and going crippled for the rest of his life. And in his dreams, Cyborg is often losing his teeth too. At first, I've considered his issue to be a fear of mortality. But then I've come to realize that—with a person such as Cyborg—the fear is not that of a loss of life. But a loss of humanity.

Sometimes I have wondered to what extent I should continue observing these dreams of my team members. In all honesty, it has not been my intention to 'eavesdrop' as I have. Sometimes an empathy cannot help absorbing that which emanates around her. Ultimately, though, the Titans have grown to ease out of the extreme positives and extreme negatives of their dreamscape situations.

In other words, it is nothing that might vex me nowadays.

Though I must confess….about Terra….

Terra doesn't dream at all. She hardly ever sleeps at all. For all I see in her is darkness….which means her tired blue eyes searching the corners of her darkened bedroom…

As she cries herself to sleep everynight.

And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why….


	53. Soft

﻿

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"Is it just me….or—"

"Shhh! Don't…..be……so……loud……man….."

"………is she sleeping?"

"What, were you born yesterday?"

"Dude! Just…..J-Just commenting. She IS Raven, after all. You never know if she's meditating or astrally projecting herself or……."

……………………

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"Uh…..yeah. I thank she's sleeping, dawg."

"Hehehe! Told you!"

"Feh…."

"You owe me a tofu slurpee!"

"FEH!"

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"It's not often you see that, is it?"

"See what, little man?"

"Duh! Raven sleeping!"

"Shhh! Just don't be loud about it…."

"Figures that she's nocturnal. Sleeps during the day and waltzes around at night."

"Uh huh…."

"Just like a true bat!"

"Hey!"

"Hehehehehe!"

"I'm telling on you."

"You don't have the guts, Cy. LITERALLY."

"C'mon, man…..let's just grab the Stinkball ingredients and get our butts to the gym already!"

"Heh….yeah, sure…."

_……………………_

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"……you know…."

"Hmm? What now?"

"……….she looks so……soft……"

"……..I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me!"

"……'soft'……"

"Well, I suppose it's a girl thing—"

"RAVEN…..is _'soft'_?"

"Okay, dude….Forget I said anything. Sheesh…..an elf says what's in his head and he gets a cross-examination—"

"No, man. Just….Just what do you mean exactly?"

"Well, Raven's always had a penchant for…..I dunno…..she's like a princess underneath."

"Snkkkt-heheheh….The Hell is this coming from?"

"Just look at her! Notice that even when she's sleeping, her hands have the fingers folded all 'gracefully' and jazz. It's like she's danced her way into the couch…."

"Uhhh…..okaaaay….."

"You suppose her hair feels like ice? The way it's all shiny-blue and stuff?"

"B.B……you're starting to scare me. Heheheh….it's not even Valentine's yet. Where's this sappiness coming from?"

"Dude….Not sappiness! Just—"

"………….when Terra was around, the two of us…..ya know…..cuddled….."

"Uh huh….."

"Movie Night…..on a park bench…..just sitting in a chair together with a Game Boy or something. It's…….It's a beautiful world when you've felt a chick's body lying in your arms. Snoozing and stuff. Kind of like having a purring kitten in your lap, only that much more cute and stuff…..uhm….am I making any sense?"

"Heh……Yeah, B.B. You are."

"…………..I just know that Raven'll make a lucky guy warm and fuzzy some day."

"Pfft….up to her, man. But you know how that would go."

"………….I should take a photo."

"Why?"

"Draw a mustache on the Polaroid. Hehehehe!"

"Hahaha—snkkt—_Shhhhh!_ Ahem…..Let's….erm…."

"Yeah….let's split…."

"She'll dance our butts into the bucket if we get any frickin' closer to waking her up…."

"Yeah…..Stinkball!"

"Boo-ya! _Stinkball!"_

_  
"Hehehe!"_

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I stir.

My limbs shift and slide….

……..a blanket.

My violet eyes squint open.

"Mmmmmnngh….."

I sit up…..lying on the length of the couch in the Main Room. Still wearing my blue sweater and jeans. The day has waned to dimness outside. A cold frost covers the windows, and the snow of mid January drifts downward in a curtain sheet of nature. The words of Mary Shelley are still spread before me in a hardback nestled between my sleepy body and the cushions of the couch.

But…..

_A blanket……_

I run my fingers over the material and blink confusedly.

Then I hear tapping sounds.

I turn my blue head.

I see Robin at the far end of the Main Room, typing up a report as quietly as possible.

"What…..Wh-What time is it….?"

"Seven Thirty," Robin drones without looking back at me. "Don't worry, I'll be gone soon."

"I…..I guess I fell asleep…..Sorry, Robin, I'll leave you in—"

"Don't bother, Raven. Stay as long as you like. I'll be gone soon."

I blink.

_I should get up……and walk to bed._

But………

Nah……

"Mmmmmmm…..," I close eyes and curl back into the warmth of the blanket. "……B-Beast Boy and Cyborg……wh-where did they go?"

"……..Excuse me?"

"W-Weren't they….," I yawn. "…..j-just here?"

Robin looks over his shoulder finally. "Uhm…..No. They both went out for pizza with Starfire an hour ago."

"……………oh……," I snuggle into the blanket and drift beyond the couch. "……y-you…….didn't…….h-have to give me the blanket."

Typing. A pause. "Uhhhh…..I didn't, Raven."

"…………………."

_Whatever………_

Seriously, just………

Whatever……

Can I have the next dance, Sandman?


	54. Doll

﻿

I am walking through the Tower.

Down a dimly lit hallway.

In all honesty...I do not know which floor...

My nose and the eyes above its bridge are stuck within the pages of Faulkner.

As I drift and I drift and I drift and I drift...

I am not even aware of the door opening just to my left until I hear Starfire's shriek:

"EEP!" She jumps within the frame of the door to her bedroom.

There is a clattering of things hitting the floor. Some things that fell from Starfire's arms, and my book.

"...is everything okay?" I drone.

"I am exceedingly sorry, friend Raven," Starfire nervously smiles and goes about picking up my book and her belongings. "You scared me. That is all."

"I seem to be good at doing that these days."

She picks up and hands me back my book. "May I inquire where you were headed?"

"Somewhere halfway between the sound and the fury," I take my book and flip through the pages. "Why?"

"I was wondering if you were considering the possibility of assisting me with the distribution of toys to the orphanage in downtown!"

"I did my volunteer work last week," I murmur. "Remember when I came back home smelling like fecal matter?"

She makes a face and averts her eyes from me. "Erm..."

"That was me...doing 'distribution'...at the orphanage," I say with a slight visual pulsating of my temple. A calming breath. I flip through a few pages and further murmur: "Next time Robin suggests I try helping orphans 'clean up their room', he should specify that the 'room' really means 'lavatory'."

"I am sorry for such an unfortunate experience on your behalf...," Starfire stammers with somber sympathy. And then she switches into vicious joy as she utters: "But would it not be joyful to bless such younglings with gifts of Christ of the Mass? Is it not the time for wintry holiday cheer on your planet?"

I gaze out a distant window. A distant window fogged with frost and ice from the snow gale outside.

"Uhhh...Star? In my world...it's always 'cold'." I glance at her with a slight curve to my lip. "It keeps me from noticing the real change in season and thus freezing my fanny off."

"Hehehehehe..._'fanny'_..."

"...why don't you ask Beast Boy or Robin to go?"

"I already have. And Beast Boy has thusly volunteered. And now, if I can just employ him in carrying the excess toys to the orphanage, the ceremony shall begin forthwith!"

"So is that what you were carrying when I startled you?"

"Most of it! You see, they are most exquisite toys and--"

I see something behind her. Inside Starfire's bedroom. Located upon the round, pink bed.

I see that something...

...and I blink.

"Uhhh...Star?"

"Hmm? Yes, Raven?"

"...," I squint my violet eyes and point. "What's that?"

"...what is what?"

"That thing...on your bed."

"Erm...what th-thing are you referring to?"

"...that **blue** thing."

"Errr..." _THWOOOSH!_ Starfire drops the toys again in a mad attempt to block my vision into her room. She smiles and shuts her eyes while sweatdropping. "It is merely nothing! I have grown an admiration for the color blue found in many of Earth's environmental anomalies and I have taken it upon myself to add such a hue to the fashion of my domain--EEP!"

_THWOOSH!_ I have shoved her aside and am now marching into her room with a perplexed frown. A perplexed frown that turns into a freaked-out frown. A freak-out frown that swiftly turns into confused immobility. "Starfire...this...this is a doll..."

She crawls halfway up to her feet. "Yes...erm...well...so it is a d-doll...eh heh heh..."

I spin and hold the gangly blue thing by its short-haired head. "...**of me**!.!.!"

Indeed, in my grasp dangles a frighteningly proportion, plush-skinned fascimile of myself. Complete with short blue hair with combing features. An aqua-marine cloak. A black leotard. And a fashionable belt.

"...are you c-certain that looks like you?" Starfire stupidly meanders.

"Starfire...what in Azar's name is this?"

"It is...erm...," she sits up and fumbles. Her cheeks rosy as her hands wring in each other's grasp. "... toy..."

"I can see that...," I gnash my teeth. "But for all intents and purposes, it is a toy...that looks like me...sitting _on your bed_..."

"But surely you see that she is not alone!"

"...she?"

Starfire points.

I turn and look. I blink.

There are four other dolls on the bed. A petite green elf with furry, pointed ears. An amber-skinned alien with silky hair strands. A squishy half-robot with soft plastic plates. And a spike-haired hero with a terry-cloth yellow cape.

"...it's like Saturday Morning Voodoo," I murmur.

"Are they not the most adorable little golems you have ever laid your eyes upon?.?.?" Starfire enthusiastically sashays about the bed and hugs all four plush idols at once. "And they are so soft and so child-friendly!"

"...lemme guess. You made them."

The alien girl shakes her head. "Negative. Have you not seen the merchandising line?"

"Merchandising-whatsit?"

"Hark!" she points beyond my shoulder."

I turn around. I jump. "Dah!"

There are crates upon crates of packages marked 'Teen Titans Friends' lined up along the femininely embroidered edge of Starfire's domain.

"How in the world did you fit all these into your room?" I pace past the ensemble in numb perplexion.

"I was granted assistance by Cyborg," Starfire floats up. "And I am now employing as many of my friends as possible in relocating these to the orphans' domain."

"THESE are the toys that you are giving to the orphans?" I glare awkwardly at her.

"Erm...affirmative. Did you not know, Raven? The manufacturing company gave us dozens of free samples so that we may promote good-will to the wintry masses! Is that not wonderful?"

"...sounds like a pathetic way to earn a buck to me."

"Awww...but I assure you, my interests are genuine! I am more concerned with the joy of these lonely orphans than I am with acquiring for myself a male deer."

"Is that why you have five opened dolls lying on your bed?" A beat. I again hold the strangled little 'Raven' up by the neck. "Including **me**?.?.?"

"Please, friend Raven!" Starfire pouts and gently takes the doll from me like it is an infant. She cradles it with a smile. "These toys are more than mere products of synthetic fiber materials. They are built with loving care and made so especially soft for nightly companionship with deserving children!" Lost in the moment, she nuzzles her cheek with the pale face of the plushie sorceress. "Hehehe! This model is especially sewn together!"

"...," I stare lethargically at her. "...Starfire, you've slept with me?" I drone.

"Erm...you've _slept with my doll?"_

"I have tested all of them..."

"'Tested'?"

"And they are certainly accomplishing in the tasks for which they were crafted!" Starfire beams and hands the blue-haired little imp back to me. "Here! You must try for yourself!"

"...you want me to sleep with a doll...of me..."

"D-Does that bother you?"

"Starfire...," I sigh and wave. "Thank you but...no. Besides, it's in the middle of the day and I have things to do--"

"So have I!"

**_PL-PLANT!_**

The 'Raven' doll is shoved into my gut.

"Nnnngh!" I grab onto it and wince. My head follows the alien girl. "St-Starfire?

"Do look after it while I venture to tend to the orphans!" The girl sing-songs as she waltzes over, graces a crate with her girlish hands, and lifts the hulking object up with little strain. _SWOOSH!_ "It shall require Beast Boy and I a few trips! But such is worth it--snow or not. For these younglings deserve attention!"

"And I deserve sanity," I grumble and dangle the pathetic doll by its little leg. The blue cloak and air dangle upside down. I'm suddenly glad that I don't wear a skirt...or that it doesn't wear a skirt..._erm..._ "Starfire...**Take. The. Doll."**

"I am unable to comply! For I must make haste to the orphanage before nightfall further blots out the light amidst a blizzard!" _SWOOOSH! "ENJOY!"_

"STARFIRE!"

She's gone...

"Nnnnnngh...," I fume. I take a few breaths...compose myself meditatively...and shuffle out into the hallway with Faulkner in one hand and a dangling little 'me' in the other. I pause while in the passage. I look at the doll. "..." With a flick of the wrist, I toss it unceremoniously into a nearby garbage can.

_Thwomp!_

"And stay there...," I turn my shoulder to the trashed little Raven and walk off...reentering Faulkner. "...good girl."

My pacing feet must equally be finding themselves lost in the streams of consciousness of the novel in my grasp.

For a good few countless minutes pass...

And I find myself at my room.

And I freeze in my walk.

For at the bottom of the very door to my room...

The same doll sits in waiting. Gazing up at me with marble eyes.

"What in the name of Azar?" I blink. I squint my violets.

There is a note lying next to the doll.

I pick it up.

I scan across the elaborately written words.

_Dear Raven,_

How horrid of you to leave such a wondrous doll in the Terran can of refuse! I implore you to take better care of your effigy from now on! Does she not possess a face in beautiful approximation to that of your own? My doll is almost equally pretty. Perhaps they can become friends like we have become friends! Do not these silly concepts make light of our own tempestuous lives? It is a glorious thing. Have a wonderful evening, friend Raven.

_Sincerely,  
Starfire_

"...schizophrenia goes beyond the asteroid belt, I see..."

I crumple the note up.

I raise the Raven doll in my grasp.

I stare at it.

"...feh."

I hold it by its hair caveman style as I march into my room.

I close the door behind me.

I gently, carefully slide Faulkner back in his respective spot on the bookshelf.

I limply toss the doll onto the dresser top.

_THWOMP!_

I stretch.

I crack the joints in my limbs and stifle my urge to yawn.

I look out the window and spot the graying light of the snow.

_Evening time falls early._

I feel like all I do these days is sleep.

All the better...death is meant to be practiced for...

I make my usual bee-line for my bathroom.

I pause.

I glance back at the dresser.

My little self glances back upside down.

Its marble eyes glistening.

"...you're such a pathetic waste of marketing," I mutter.

I imagine all the companies I can plausibly sue for the stuffed marsupial's little existence...

But I shrug it off, gather my things, and engage in a relaxing shower.

Afterwards...

Drying off...

Brushing my hair...

Slipping into a nightgown...

I sit in a chair and curl up to a book. Hemingway, this time...

I read and I read and I read...

Aided by candle light.

Silhouetted against the window of drifting gray snow in the background.

I pause to yawn a few times.

The pages start to blur.

The fine amber line between being alive and being dead summons me to sleep.

I close the book and I gaze across the room.

Blinking...

And I find the beady-eyed little doll staring back at me.

"...you're still a pathetic waste of marketing."

_Thwap!_

I close Hemingway.

I put him back in his place.

I shuffle over to the candles and blow them out one by one.

Fantasizing about tomorrow morning...

A day off, hopefully...

Tea...blueberry muffins...

Fitzgerald...

The last candle is extinguished.

I welcome the darkness.

The cold of the wintry world outside suddenly stabs my feet and ankles and wrists and arms.

My extremities quiver with the familiarity of frigidity.

_I think about the cold concrete temples of Azar..._

The sheets of Spirit Silk...never to be found in any other dimension...

How cold my beds felt in that world. They were made to feel like a crypt. To further distance the illusions of warmth, life, hope...

Every emotion that leads to a passion that could draw open the doorway for my father...

I remember the last question I ever made as a 'little girl'. My instructors had finished convincing me as to the necessity of keeping me separated from my mother. The dangers of emotional attachment. And in being guided across the streets of Azar...from temple chamber to temple chamber...

_I often saw little ones with their guardians..._

And a select few of them carried small stuffed animals and toys along with them...

_'Could I have one that looks like my mother?' I asked. 'Since she and I are not allowed to be together?'_

'No' they said. 'The chosen one must not touch or feel. Not even an idea.'

"..." I take a deep breath.

I kick off the memories as soon as I kick my feet off the ground and slide into bed.

_Yes, it seems that all I'm doing these days is sleeping._

But...

It's what I've always been doing in my life.

Sleeping alone.

_  
This cold...this crypt..._

Have I learned to love it?

I pull the covers over me...

But it all feels so freezing now.

I know that a long day of fighting crime and dealing with the eccentricities of these moronic teammates of mine usually tires me to the point that...

Reaching this part of the day normally relaxes me.

But...

All I can do now is shiver.

For I am no longer Raven the Titan.

_I am the chosen one._

The lone daughter being hauled from temple chamber to temple chamber.

Sharing glances with confused children under the arms of their guardians.

Never touching.

Never feeling.

For Angela the Pure is forever immaculate for her sacrifice...

My body shivers, but my breath comes out in a long and weighted wind.

I close my eyes...but it feels like a frost has formed on the inside of the lids.

I think the funniest thing all of the sudden...frighteningly funny...

For a moment, I wonder if Starfire has gotten herself stuck in the blizzard.

But I swiftly remind myself that her people can even survive in the void of space without a mishap.

And for some reason, that thought--laced with the faint remaining ring of her voice in my head--warms me enough to stop shivering.

And I allow myself that sinful glance...

That transgression of a darting eye across my room...towards my dresser...

Where a pair of beady eyes look pathetically back at me.

It is less than ten minutes later...

That I am again lying down in bed.

But I'm not alone...

I'm snuggling up besides myself.

Happily hooked within the frame of a pale arm.

"Mmmmmmmmmm...," I exhale as I cuddle into a silly warmth impossibly placed between myself and the doll. "...I **am** soft..."

I sleep the comfiest I have in months.

Save for when I wake up in the morning.

My lips hurt...as if having performed an expression I am not proficient at...

All through the night.


	55. Dick

﻿

_"Snkkkt...Crkkks...snkkkt-hello?..."_

I flip a page in the book.

I read...read...read...

_"...snkkkt...snkkkt-are you there-skkkt!..."_

"...?" I raise an eyebrow above my pages...

_"snkkkt...crkkkkt-calling from the Manor...please pick up..."_

I turn my head.

I glance at the Titan Computer.

The communication system continues to hiss and produce static.

"...hrmmmm..."

I slap my book closed.

I get up from the kitchen stool...leaving my tea behind.

I shuffle across the main room.

I sit at the computer, cross my legs, and press a button like a switchboard operator.

"Yes...Titan's Tower. Raven speaking. Who is this?" I drone in swift dullness.

_"Snkkkkt--Ah, about time I reached through! I was calling on multiple frequencies. I can't believe I've been boorish enough to forget the exact number I was given last time. But--no matter."_

I blink. "Uhm..."

_"Is Master Dick there? I needed to ask him a question regarding his semester take-home exams."_

"..." I lean my head closer towards the communicator. "I beg your pardon?"

_"Oh, is he trying to evade them again? I swear, for such a workaholic, Master Dick always fouls up when it comes to the important things. Erm...th-that is, the important things at home."_

"I-I'm afraid I don't know who or what you're talking about sir."

_"Is that so? Hehehe...are you one of Barbara's friends? Please, child. You need not cover for him. It only makes things all the worse when it catches up with the boy. And it wouldn't do you any more good than him to see Master Bruce angry."_

"...who is this?" I squint my violet eyes. "...do you know who you're calling?"

"_Why, of course! I-..."_ An awkward silence. _"...this isn't the Grayson flat in Manhattan?"_

"Uh...no. This is California. Titan's Tower. Jump City?.?.?"

_"...oh bullocks. I WOULD do that again, wouldn't I...erm...errr...and y-you would happen to be--?"_

"Raven. Of the Teen Titans."

_"Good heavens! Erm...w-wrong number!"  
_

"Are you sure, sir?"

_"Erm...N-No, actually...th-this...eh...Th-Th-This is a PRANK CALL! Y-Yes...I...er...I have taken notice that certain royal prince by the title of Albert has habituated himself in your canneries. Yes...do be a good lass and let him out of his cylindrical confinement, will you?...oh dear...dear..."_ **CLICK!** _Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep..._

My pale brow furrows. I slowly flick the switch and silence the phone line.

"...okaaaaaaaaaay..."

Silence...

I run a hand through my short, blue strands and sit there. Bathed in the light of midday gray and confused afterglow.

"...we should get call-waiting..."

I stand up. I walk back towards the kitchen table.

Just at the same time, the elevator doors open.

Cyborg, Terra, Beast Boy, and Robin walk into view.

"Boo-Yaaaa! After a fine afternoon round of kickin' Mumbo Jumbo's butt, the boys are BACK!"

"I've noticed," I drone. "All four of you."

"HEY!" Terra frowns...then grins. "Don't insult Beast Boy!"

"Hehehe! Yeah! You tell 'er--HEY!"

"Hehehehehehe!" Terra giggles and gives Beast Boy a dutch rub.

"Owowowowow! Stoppit! You're damaging my do!"

"Do and do-not. Have and have-not! Have stomach...will SUNNY D!"

"OOOH! OOH! SUNNY D!"

"Uh uh! I'm first to the fridge!"

"Not if I out-scurry you!"

Beast Boy and Terra excitedly race past me.

My robe and blue hair flutter in the 'breeze' of their zooming figures.

"...," I blink. "...yeah..." I pick up my book and tea. "...I'm taking this to the rooftop."

"Good idea, sunshine," Cyborg winks at me as he walks by. "Beautiful weather. Perfect timing. You _do_ know how to make use of a beautiful day, eh girl?"

"Yeah...I try not to slip date rape drugs into its drink."

"Funny...in the usually miserable way."

"Enjoy your rust."

"Hey, Raven," Robin walks up and waves. "Anything to report?"

"Well, since Starfire's been sleeping all day--"

_"I wonder who she learns THAT from!"_ Terra giggles from the rustling background.

I pause. My temple pulses. I relax. I continue. "--I've been monitoring the rest of the events outside of Mumbo's robbery. Nothing really big to report."

"I see. Thanks for keeping watch--"

"Except for one thing...nnngh...Never mind," I wave a hand and walk past him. "It's stupid..."

"No. Tell me," the leader says, his hands on his hips. "What was it?"

"...a phone call. Probably a prankster. Most likely some senile senior citizen."

"Calling the _Tower?"_

"Yeah. Those things happen. Technology and whatnot."

Robin nods. He scratches his head. "I don't suppose it was someone we might somehow know...?"

My lips curve somewhat. "Robin...a senior citizen? The Titans? Didn't you just get done beating the brains in of one earlier?"

Robin winces. "Okay, Okay...point taken..."

"Though...," I glance aside and murmur to myself. "He did seem to be looking for someone..."

"Whoever it is, I'm sure he'll come to his senses..."

"Or die."

"Yeah...that...Thanks a bunch. Enjoy your reading."

"Right..."

Robin walks off.

I head into the elevator.

I take a sip from my tea.

I walk in, press the button to the rooftop.

And I linger.

"..._who was he looking for...?"_

Silence.

_Ding!_

The elevator doors start to close.

I tilt my head up.

I lean forward and call out through the shutting doors.

"Hey! Dick!"

For a split second, I see three faces turning and looking at me.

And then the doors close.

As the elevator rises up, I think about the faces that shared my glance.

_Terra..._

Beast Boy...

Cyborg...

But Robin...

Robin didn't look.

"Hmmm...," I smirk ever so slightly and raise the teacup in 'cheers'. "...interesting..."

I sip the last of the tea.

"...very..."


	56. Please

﻿

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Ravennnnnnnn!" Beast Boy coos enthusiastically. Positioned on his knees besides me on the rooftop. "Pleeeeeeease, won't you reconsiderrrrr?"

My temple is throbbing...throbbing...throbbing...

Nighttime by the pier...and the two of us are sitting atop a warehouse, staring out onto the scene of the supposed drug exchange Robin has researched and discovered to take place tonight. At least...**we are supposed to be staring** out onto the scene. Right now the task is being accomplished by myself and myself alone. As I gaze long and hard with violet-eyed scrutiny upon the site, this friggin' little elf hasn't been able to sit still. He's been going on and on about this one absurd and pointless thing:

"Just try it! Just try co-op Halo with me!" his green eyes sparkle. "You'll enjoy it! You'll warm up to video games! I swear it!"

"Nnnnngh...," my pale brow furrows from under my blue hood. "...for the last time...**NO**."

"How could you say no to once-in-a-lifetime experience?.?.?"

"I fail to see how subjecting myself to mind-numbing digital input for hours on end can be called an 'experience'...," I drone. "Besides, there're more important things to worry about right now. You and I are supposed to be covering this end of the sting operation while Cyborg and Starfire circle around the--"

"Pffft! Nobody's showed for two hours straight!" Beast Boy rolls his eyes and reclines back on the rooftop. His green hair glints in the pale moonlight. "This whole 'operation' is totally bogus! We're wasting our time. And worst of all...I'm bored!"

"I know you're new to this whole 'suphero team thing', Beast Boy," I grumble. "As am I...But we need to be _serious_. Robin SPECIFICALLY said that the criminals would be meeting here tonight. I don't know about you, but I'm not about to disapprove this Boy Wonder person. He's a protege of Batman, one of the greatest detectives who ever lived. And since Robin is both an expert on this sort of thing AND our **leader**, I think it's only prudent that we--"

"You know what's REALLY fun?" Beast Boy beams. "Doing the 'Rat Patrol' in the Warthog! You see...one of the Master Chiefs jumps into the pilot's seat while the second player gets on the assault rifle in the back of the vehicle aaaaaand...you just GO TO TOWN! Hehehehe...DEAD COVENANT! Almost makes me hungry--which is a sin, cuz I'm a vegetarian. And digitized alien goo making me want to eat something has got to be a bad sign."

"Nnnngh...," I run a hand over my fave and sigh. "...are you listening to a single word I say? Is that even possible, Beast Kid?"

"It's Beast **Boy!**" he frowns, his arms folded. "Get it straight!"

"Whatever."

"No 'whatever'! I've worked hard to get this name! At least YOU could have been more creative! We already have a person on this team named after a bird!"

"For your information, my real name _IS_ 'Raven'. It is not an alias. And even if it **WAS**...," my temple pulses again as I glare at the sniveling elf through the corner of my eye. "...I've beared it a lot longer than the young boy who leads this new team of ours has EVER used the name 'Robin'."

Well, at least HE will play Halo with me! Cyborg too. Cyborg's cool. But when I ask you...pfft...you just reject me flat out!"

"Asking me twenty times in a row doesn't help after the initial rejection..."

"Says who?" Beast Boy grins. "You're just a stubborn mule-_hehe-_who needs to learn how to lighten up and have fun!"

"I...am not...**a mule**."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Raven?"

"Please what--? Oh dear Azar, not again..."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease will you give some multiplayer gaming a shot? I promise I'll be easy on you!"

"Beast Boy...I said 'no'..."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

"No...And do not ask for it again, we need to be silent. This operation is already being hampered by your--"

"Please Please Please Please Please Please Pleeeeeeeeeeease?" He coos, shuffling up against me. He breaks in giggles at his own insistence. "Hehehehe!"

And I...

"...Beast Boy...you have asked...you have asked again...and you may continue to ask me if I would like to play video games with you. Let me have you know...that the very first time you ever...EVER asked me if I would play video games with you, my answer was 'no'. I said 'no' for one reason and one reason alone. I did not desire to play video games with you. Which--in continuum--supports the fact that--at this very moment--I presently do not hold any existing desire to play video games with you. And most assuredly you can learn to expect that there will never...EVER be a time in the future when I will possibly CONCEIVE of the idea of playing video games with you. And on top of all that, your constant insistence and repetition of the inquiry into my potential to play video games with you is not only a monumental exercise in redundancy, but it is a extraordinarily vibrant testimony as to your impatience, immaturity, and blatant childish **stupidity**. The fact that you would even consider asking me further the very same question that I have--most emphatically--stated my lack of positive correspondence with, serves to show that not only do you ignore any and all appeal to the common sense of the human psyche, but it is safest to say that you must not possess any natural standard of a human brain, and that you are--in fact--a moron who is far below the level of intelligence of a common piece of lint. It may occur to you that what I am saying is an accurate description of your tragic depravity and lack of logical assimilation. But--more than likely--stupidity will win over your frail mind, and the only thing you'll be capable of doing is to further inquire of me the request that--as has been stated--I shall not and will not and will never be persuaded to comply with. No, I will not play video games with you. I never will. And if you ask me that question one more time, not only will I do everything that is in my power to have Robin demote, evict, or lobotomize you...but I'll be sorely tempted to let loose the veiled demon within and feed your living, bleeding pulp of cranial vacancy to the **ravaging dogs of the night**!.!.!.!"

Silence...

I pant...pant...pant...

I take a deep breath.

I collect myself, push back a stubborn strand of blue hair, and straighten my robe.

"Now...," I say in a low voice. "Let's resume our task at hand. There could be a lot of embezzled funds at stake--" I stop in mid-sentence. I raise a blue eyebrow. For I...hear something.

Beast Boy is sitting on the very edge of the rooftop. He is hugging his knees to his chest. Most of his back is to me.

"...did you say something?" I ask him.

"N-No...," he murmurs. There is a shuddering to his voice. A breathiness. I see his shoulders shake...as with a hiccup.

"I could have sworn you said something..."

"N-Nothing...," he stammers. "D-Don't worry about it?"

"Is something wro--?" I do a double take. "Are..._are you **crying?"**_

He sniffs. "N-No..." Without looking at me, he wipes his sleeve against his cheek. "...forget about it..."

"Wait...Wait Wait Wait...I didn't..._dear Azar above..._...I didn't mean for you to cry--"

"Let's j-j-just do our j-job here..."

"Beast Boy--Okay. Okay, I guess...Uhm...I guess I was a little harsh about the...erm...dogs of the night?"

"What's it matter anyways. I'm 'stupid'."

"No you're not..."

(SNIFF) "That's what you said." (SNIFF)

"Well I didn't... ... ...Okay, so maybe I _did_ say that...uhm..."

"Don't m-make me t-talk more...I-I'll j-just screw up th-this operation..."

"No you won't...," I drone. I sigh. I rub my temple and fight...fight...fight for the blasted words. "You...You have talent and...uhm...p-powers...and..."

"W-We all have stinkin' powers..."

"Yes...but...uhm...," I bite my lip. I gesture. "Y-You were on the Doom Patrol...and...erm...Doom...yeah..._Doom_...that sounds...th-that sounds 'dark'...and...erhm...I...I-I like 'dark'...ya know...yeah...'dark' is good...so...y-you got that, I guess..."

(SNIFF) A corner of his face shows puffily. "Y-You really mean that?" (SNIFF)

I blink.

_What is it that I mean?_

Ah, whatever...

This whole night is beyond meditation.

"Uhhh... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... Y-Yes?" A pause. "... ... ... ... ... ... Yes I do?"

"You don't really meaaaaan thaaaaat," Beast Boy sobs.

"Nnnnngh...," I rub my forehead.

_Blast it..._

Help me, Mother...

What would you--?

"...Beast Boy...look...," I drone and gesture. "...I don't do video games...and I'm sure you don't do stuff that I do..."

"I-I can think of a l-lot of st-stuff that you'd d-d-do that I w-would't!"

_What...so now he's mad at me?_

"Anyways...that doesn't mean we can't...," I wince...hard... "...**do**...things...t-together...in the future..."

He rubs his eyes, sniffs, and looks at me. "R-Really?"

"Yeah...I don't know what it could be, yet...but...we can do...uhm...**something**...as friends...in the future...I guess..."

"..."

_Get it over with..._

"So...T-Try and be happy...," I bite my lip and squeeze out: "'Please'?"

"...," he stares at me. His green eyes Christmasy in their puffiness.

"...," I roll my eyes. I groan the cartoonishly stretch my tongue to emit a Beast Boyish: "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

"Hehehehe!" he finally smiles and gives a thumb's up. "Yeah...cool...all right!"

I close my eyes and exhale.

"Okay...now...let's review on just exactly what we're doing--"

_"Hey!"_

"Up there! On the roof!"

"It's those new super kids!"

"Quick! Toss a grenade!"

I do a double-take. "What in the world?"

"Oh y-yeah...," Beast Boy rubs the back of his head and smiles sheepishly. "By the way...some thugs have been down there beneath us for the last twenty seconds..."

"..."

_I am really...really going to hate him--_

Cl-Clink!

"Raven! Hit the deck!"

"Nnngh! Stop climbing all over me! You little green--!"

**KAPOWWWWWWWWW!.!.!.!.!.!.!**


	57. Shy

﻿

Beast Boy asks me these days--more commonly than not--about when I lost my 'shyness'.

Hearing this from him naturally assumes that I was ever definitively 'shy' to begin with.

But then again...with Beast Boy...

Life is almost always about assumptions.

But I have to admit that--early on in the annals of our team--there was a certain threshhold that I possessed. And at some point, that threshhold was crossed. Exactly when and for what reasons, I canot now surmise. But there was a time when I realized--on my own and with personal judgment--that I had become exactly that which I did not want to be.

A monster.

Well...

That is far too melodramatic. My mother would have my neck for that...as lovingly as she could ever 'have someone's neck'.

I became less than a desirable roomate. There you have it.

And...

It is truly unfair to the Titans. Unfair to who and what they are. For it is not like they truly mean or desire to impose upon me with their individual quirks or ways of living or _enjoying life._

I just happen to be the sort of person to easily clash...And to clash with 'sparks'.

I wonder if there are a lot of people like me in this world. If there are, I am certainly blind to them. Most likely because I have reduced my vision to that which is allotted within the aura of my teammates. That is both a good and bad thing. A good thing because--as limited my exploits--I live in a realm of trust and companionship. A bad thing because--I only have myself to judge. For neither Robin, Beast Boy, Terra, Starfire, or Cyborg are quite like me. And that should not be to their detriment...just because I have nothing beating and bleeding to bounce myself off against.

Which is rather quite fine. I have always been happy within the framework of myself. Perhaps that is what Beast Boy thinks about when he uses the label 'shyness'. But I'm inclined to believe he's referring to the awkwardness it took for me to make the transition from uncertain sorceress...

To incompetent demoness...

Robin constantly insists that I must not be so hard on myself, especially with labeling. What motivates the Titan Leader to pay me such attention and respect is...rather questionable. If it wasn't for his strong companionship with Starfire, I might question his motives. But I suppose there is a faith that he holds in me that none of the other Titans possess--or at least are far too afraid and uncomfortable around me to possess.

And what is the reason for such discomfort and fear?

One does not intimidate friends by being 'shy'...

But rather the opposite.

Or at least something akin to the opposite...more-or-less deposited along the residual side of things.

The soonest I became adept to this world and its fragility...

I...

I turned bitter...

For I started to see less and less of the darkness of the world...

And more and more of the darkness inside.

And it was rather insulting.

This world, full of so much sin and murder and hate and greed and lust...

It pales in comparison to the evil that I harbor.

And the soonest I grew to taste that...I grew bitter and resentful...

As if the world should have known better than to surrender itself so ignorantly into the fiery jaws of wrath that has spit me forth onto this domain.

Stupidity has long been a sense that I have resented. And--perhaps--I took it upon myself to transfer a fear of blatant stupidity to everyone and everything around me.

I've always known that I was and am alone.

But with the Titans...

With the Titans I _feel_ alone...

I bring the same fate that distinguishes me from them.

That distinguishes their suffering...and yet simultaneously distinguishes my immortality...

My guilt...Their pain...The future...

So...

I guess I've been shy about it.

From the beginning, I've been shy...

For I did not want them to know even an iota of the curse they would be tasting of by so much as sharing the same _atmosphere_ as me...

Then I've been resentful...for I envied them for their ignorance and their joyous lack of understanding...

And now...

Now I am angry.

Angry at myself for allowing myself to pervert what should have been a natural form of meditation and solitude...

...into something of venomous spite.

And, so, I have become shy again.

For whether or not my friends know it...

I seek their forgiveness.

I seek their forgiveness...even before I've hurt them...

Before they learn what it is that both empowers me and weighs me down...

Outside of understandings, there are only assumptions, and such is the playing field where Beast Boy--deservingly or not--chooses to roam in.

I should not hate him for that.

And yet...I cannot risk getting closer to him or any of the other Titans because...

Because I know it will all be for nothing.

Nothing but pain.

And for that reason, I again have grown quiet.

I have...become 'shy'...

And if it will rest their hearts, may it be the only truth they must suffer by...

The least suffering of all...


	58. Sphinx

﻿

_Th-Th-Thwoosh!_

I leap back and land atop the moving train cars in a slide.

I grit my teeth and flex my fingers forward just in time to summon a wall of black soul charge and--

**FL-FLASH!**

"HAAAA!" Jinx launches hex bolt after hex bolt at me.

My soul-self absorbs the blows...but the intensity forces me to scrunch back further atop the fast-moving train through the center of the City.

My eyes are a flickering mess of gray as my teeth grit and my blue rope and hood flap madly in the wind.

"You know, you're really blasted lucky you're closer to the caboose of the train!" Jinx hisses at me above the noise. "If you were in my position, you would be happily suffocated by your own pathetic fashion statement!"

"I'm enjoying your cat hair very much, Jinx..."

"Hehehe...That's just a rumor you pathetic witch!"

I crouch low. "In the end...we're all hunched _over the same **cauldron!"**_ I slam a palm down into the top of the train. "Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

**_FL-FL-FL-FL-FLASSSH!_** A layer of exploding bird talons surges through the train cars' rooftops towards Jinx's position.

"Nnnngh!" She leaps up, soars over the shattering metal, and flips over me.

I swivel about and face the back of the train.

_Th-Thap!_ Jinx lands on two nimble feet, facing me.

I suddenly gasp and flail about as--according to prediction--my body is overcome by the wind-whipped fury of my blue coat.

"HA!" she grins a crescent moon. "NOW do you know how terrible it is to be closer towards the front of the train wearing that ugly excuse of a--"

_Fw-FWAAAP!_ My cloak and hood goes flying into her face.

**THAP!**

"Mmmmmfff!" Jinx flails about with the tarp-like article covering her torso.

Clad only in my leotard, I snarl and run towards her with a fist charged with a bulbous splash of my soul self.

**FLASH!**

"MMMF!" Jinx tumbles back from the blow and collapses across the top of the train car. My robe goes sailing off of her and into the oblivion of the blurring urbanscape beneath us.

"You're going to have to pay for that...," I growl.

"Oh shut your fanny-face!" She sticks her pink tongue out. "Nobody asked you to be a royal pain in the rectum today!"

"Not my fault you chose to hijack a train...," I point. "Struggle all you like. You're under arrest. Even if _I'm not the one to do it_, the rest of the Titans will be here any minute to put to rest whatever plans H.I.V.E. may have."

"Stop speaking like you're giving me an ultimatum," she frowns at me. Pink cat eyes ablaze with hate. "You're not the wielder of fate! You're just a pathetic little conjurer like I am!"

"I conjure nothing...," I hiss. "It is merely an extension of myself that I wield."

"You're arrogant, that's what you are!" Jinx growls. "All of you Titans! You with your...Grandiose ideas of heroic self-importance! Nnnngh! I swear! You're no more righteous than Oedipus Rex on a summer's day walk!"

"Oh please...," I drone. "Oedipus was hardly the hero."

"And you are--?"

"He was a murderer and a tragic result of twisted fate."

"He was an idiot! Just like you are, poopy-head!"

"He was an arrogant fool with self-absorbed royal blood and the inability to calm down and talk to old men in the middle of the road without resorting to KILLING THEM!"

"That's because he persisted in his banal existence despite all the warning signs given to him to turn back or stick to a vow of poverty and humility or KILL HIMSELF!"

"Arrogant though he may have been, one cannot deny even an ounce of benevolence in his motives when he solved the riddle of the Sphinx and freed the poor, enslaved citizens of Thebes!"

"His motives in solving the Sphinx's riddles weren't benevolent! He was intent on winning the kingdom and making passionate love to the queen! Who turned out to be his mother! And on top of that, Oedipus was die-hard to kill his old man in the middle of the road!"

"He wasn't aware that the impoverished traveler was actually his father, the King of Thebes. Besides, one cannot deny that the King of Thebes was responsible for his own undoing. For--with Oedipus--he was guilty of infanticide...or at least the intent of infanticide and childhood abandonment! How does a father like that deserve to live..."

"Ah HA! So--as a Titan--you agree with the necessary elimination of lives in order to protect the greater interests of the masses!"

"Negative! I merely believe that the King of Thebes was far more a demonic and dastardly entity than his--yes--_murderous_ son Oedipus!"

"But Oedipus stole his father's wife and made abominable children with his mother!"

"Which he was hopelessly sorry for after his learning of his errors and took it upon himself to lose all sight of the beautiful colors of the world!"

"A small price to pay when you introduce Antigone and Ismene into a world of shame and harassment for their incestuous origins!"

"Certainly better than living the life of a father who would _murder_ his own children out of personal fear or guilt or shame!"

"You sound like you're defending Oedipus! Pffft! Girl, have you got something in common with Electra or what?"

I snarl, my violet eyes burning white. "I assure you... ... ...I am the last... .. ...daughter in this universe... ... ...to hold something in common... ... ...with Electra..."

A rumbling. A dark energy fills the air. The runaway train beneath us buckles and groans. Then a chill...

And Jinx has goosebumps all over her skin. "...eep... ... ...okay..."

"... .. ... ...," I look at her...breathing long and hard.

"... ... ...what were we doing again?"

I blink at that.

"Uhhh..."

"HAAAAAA!" She runs at me, pink hex flinging from her wrist.

I grit my teeth and summon a black 'shield' of soul self at the last second.

We collide with a splash of pink against black.

**FLASH!.!.!.!**

"Aren't you cold?"

"Aren't you starving...?"


	59. Knee

﻿

"Raven! Your knee!" I can hear Cyborg gasp.

I trudge along past him through the sewers. "I'm fine..." I walk to the end of the corridor and look both ways along the fork in the underground path. "Now let's hurry. That alien dog won't find itself..."

"But your knee!" Cyborg walks over to me and points. "It's scabbed to high Hell!"

"It isn't a big deal..."

"In a place like this, Raven, it could be infected!"

"I know that, Cyborg. I can protect myself. I'm not a little girl," I walk along. I take the right path. "Beast Boy is depending on us," I drone. "The only key to his disappearance is this mutt from outer space--"

"Could you at least--_I dunno_--stop for a second and let me take a look?"

I sigh.

I come to a stop, fold my arms, and stretch my leg out from the hem of my blue robe. "Nnnngh...Suit yourself. This is a total waste of time..."

"Let me be the judge of that...," he trudges his metal self over and kneels down in front of me. He takes a close look at my knee and runs a gentle metal finger around the red edges of the scrape.

I try not to wince.

Try...

"Damn, girl! This is pretty nasty! It's bruised and everything! What on earth happened to make--"

"I was repeatedly pummeled to the ground by an excitable canine extraterrestrial that had no business of so much as _touching me_, **that's what**," I grunt.

"Well if you walk on this thing for too much longer...you're going to limp for a few days."

I squint my violet eyes down at him. "Since when were you so concerned with the way I walk?"

"Jeez, girl! Did you ever even considered healing yourself with them powers of yours?"

"Well, did ya?"

_'Ruff! Ruff!'_ Panting. A wet pitter-pattering of feet. An alien-eyed, green-furred dog runs down an adjacent sewer tunnel.

A growling Starfire soars after it in heavy pursuit. _"J'kiul venjaat chlorfarker!"_

Cyborg and I glance over. Blinking.

A hyperventilating Robin paces through the tunnel.

He pants and lingers just long enough to get a good view of Cyborg and I.

"Cyborg! Stop proposing to Raven and lend us a metal hand!"

He runs off...leaving Cyborg and I in the awkward, shadowy grace of each other.

"... ..."

"... ...uhhh...," Cyborg sweatdrops and gets up from his knee.

I gulp and glance aside, fidgeting.

"... ...he doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Whatever..."

"And we really _do_ need to go after that damn mutt."

"Whatever..."

"... ...and just why _haven't_ you healed yourself?"

"My own prerogative."

"More like _lack_ of prerogative."

"...look, I don't normally heal myself just--'like that'." I snap a finger.

"Why not, girl?"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"... ...it makes me tyred."

"So?" Cyborg smirks. "I thought you loved sleeping."

I frown at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing...just...," he shrugs. "I hate to see you suffering, Rae."

"Cyborg...the moment I start getting tortured by a simple, 'playground' injury...I'll let you know..."

"...," he looks at me.

I glare at him. "What?"

"Sometimes... ... ...it's as if you just _want a world_ where nobody cares about you...," he drifts past me.

"... ... ..."

I stare into the shadows of the sewers. The darkness that--without its fragant collection of _filth_--reminds me ever so faintly of my own room at the Tower. The shadowy margin where I sit and see these people and wish them away with sighs and good byes. I could lose a leg or an arm, and I wouldn't scream for help. I wouldn't call it so much a state of being masochistic as it is...well...regretful. The sight of my own blood is of no bother to me and myself alone. But the thought of anyone coming in contact with my blood...my _body_...my **_essence_**.. ... ... ...That is when I grow concerned. And that is when I grow fearful. For them, if anything.

Right now...I am worried about Beast Boy. But I am not fearful for him. It is only a matter of time before he is found and we restore him from whatever supremely awkward predicament he may be in. We--as the Teen Titans--have grown beyond all measured manners of limitations. And I know that we will succeed up to a certain point in confronting any obstacle...

Except for the obstacle that will bring us all down. The obstacle that is supported and cultivated through me. And I don't want them to have to sacrifice their time, effort, and concern over the banal accident that _is me._ And--I suppose in that same vein, I have given myself very little consideration too.

It's unfair. In the long run, it's so unfair. And it's not that I'm complaining. The worst way to really hurt these silly...overzealous roomies of mine is to shut them out completely and treat them like dirt. And--as it turns out--treating myself like dirt is a bit like treating them like dirt simultaneously.

I really...

R-Really need to work on that.

Starting...

"C-Cyborg?"

He pauses in the middle of the tunnel. He turns around and glances at me.

I bite my lip.

_I know all of you care about me._

Maybe if I feed into it a little bit...

You'll all stop being so desperate?

_  
Yes...that's right..._

I'll be feeding into it for all of you.

_  
Just you guys._

Not myself...

Not at all...

"I-I think I can take a break after all. Want to make sure I don't faint while I administer the healing touch to myself?"

"... ...," he smiles. "Can do, girl." He walks over. "Heh...you want me to carry you if you faint?"

I roll my violet eyes. "Don't push it."

_Thwooosh-WHUMP!_ "AUGH!" I collapse into his chest from a landing blow of four paws to the back of my shoulders.

_'Ruff Ruff!'_ _Pitter-patter-Pitter-patter-Pitter-Patter_...

_"Nnnngh...CHLORFARKER!"_


	60. Late

﻿

The stars glide by and blur into dark blue oblivion.

I am leaning my face close to the cockpit window.

Dazed by the speed of hyperspace.

I drift...drift...drift...

And my violet eyes start to close--

_"Snkkkt! Psst! Hey...Raven...Cyborg...Wake up!"_

My brow scrunches. I moan out through my nostrils and open my violet optics again. Frowning.

"I wasn't asleep...," I mutter into the cockpit communication speaker. "...but I was almost."

_"Snkkkt! Come on, B.B.! Keep it down! Everyone's trying to sleep!"_

"Snkkkt! Dude! Then who'll be flying the T-Ship?"

"Snkkkt! I told you, dawg! I've got it covered!"

Tyredly, I stand up straight, rub my eyes, and gaze about myself.

We are flying earth-ward in the T-Ship after a major battle with some...space-alien-whatever-person...

Yeah...

And I can see from my cockpit the other translucent 'bubbles' where the rest of the Team are individually located. Already I can see that Robin--of all people--is fast asleep. Starfire is dozing hard as a rock, smiling as she snoozes the cosmos away. Beast Boy is as awake as a bat at midnight, and right now he's practically bouncing around within the frame of his cockpit for some infernal reason. Cyborg--the sole sentinel on board--is piloting the T-Ship home. We're all depending on him. I suppose there isn't much biorganic material left in him to get 'drowsy'.

_"Snkkkt! You just get some rest! It'll be a couple of hours before we get back home! And I'll be needing the strength of all of you to help dock this baby at bay!"_

_"Snkkkt! But, dude! Robin and Starfire are asleep! Now's the chance!"_

"Snkkkt! Now's the chance to do what?"

"Snkkkt! To talk about them! Hehehe...you knowwwwwwwww what just happened back on that planet, don't you?"

A pause in the airwaves.

I tyredly blink my eyes.

I start to sway and wobble in my seat--

_"Snkkkkt! Man, it don't matter! Now cut the chatter! Poor Rae's trying to get some shuteye!"_

"I never thought I'd hear myself say this, Cyborg...," I drone. "But thank you for treating me like a four-year-old..."

_"Snkkkt! Dude, I think she's nocturnal."_

"...and thanks for treating Beast Boy like a **two** year old."

_"Snkkkt! Hey!"  
_

_"Snkkkt! Hah hah hah!"_

"Nnnngh," I rub my forehead and sigh. "Beast Boy..."

_"Snkkkt! Yeah, Raven?"_

"Just...for Azar's sake...get it out of your system so I can practice for death."

_"Snkkkt! Practice for--WHAT?"_

"Sleep."

_"Snkkkt! Ohh...Anyways. Hehehehe...Starrrrrrfire and Robbbbbinnnn, sittin' in a treeeeee..."_

_"Snkkkt! Man, DUH! Freakin' duh! We all knew that from the start!"_

"Snkkkt! Lovin' and a kissin' and a watchin' !"

_"Snkkkt! What's your point?"_

"Snkkkkt! They finally lived up to it! No denial and crap! Woohoo! Cupid's gotten a hit on Titan's Tower! I tell ya...Venus' has gotten one heck of a sniper!"

"Snkkkt! So what? It's a little too late if you ask me..."

"Snkkkt! Late? What do you mean, 'too late'?"

"Snkkkt! Well, they had plenty of chances to--ya know--admit their infatuation with each other a lot earlier!"

"Snkkkt! Liiiiike?"

"Snkkkt! When Slade tormented Robin. When Starfire was nearly betrothed on her home planet. Oh...and Control Freak zapped us to T.V. Land. Brrrrr...that was scary..."

"Snkkkt! I think it's jusssst the right timing. Hehehe...absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all!"

"Snkkkt! 'Absence'? Dawg, they gotta have each other's hearts before they can understand **absence**! I'm telling you, it's too late now! It's all wyrd now!"

"Snkkkt! So you're going to say that all of this time of casual, friendly buildup has had no bearing whatsoever on the kissy-kissy apex they are soon about to reach?"

_"Snkkkt! Man, is there an exhaust leak back there or something? What have you been smoking?"_

"Snkkkt! Hehehe...I'm a hopeless romantic at heart."

"Snkkt! You're a sexaholic! That's what you are!"

"Snkkt! Hey!"

"Snkkkt! Hah hah hah!"

"Snkkt! You're no fun! HEY! Hey Raven! Yoohoo!"

"Snkkt! Aw man, don't rope her into this!"

"Snkkkt! Raven! Help us out here. Has it been too late for Robin and Starfire?"

_"Snkkkt! Come on! Give us your opinion! Should they have gotten together earlier, or is it too late?"_

_"Snkkkt! Raven? We're waiting!"_

...

"... ... ...it's too soon."

_"Snkkt! Soon?"_

"Snkkkt! Huh? Soon?"

"... ... ...because Starfire and Robin confessed their love for each other...just hours before they rode home on a T-Ship... ...that was ripped to shreds by dark soul-self energy... ... ...exploding them in their sleep..."

_"... ... ..."_

"Snkkkt! Let's...uh...Let's let Raven sleep."

"Snkkkt! Good idea, little man."

"... ... ... ...," I fold my arms. I rest my chin on them...lean forward...and shut my eyes.

Silence...

_"Snkkkt! Still, it's gonna be cute pulling the mistletoe on them this year."_

"Nnnngh! Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

_"Snkkt! ACK! MY SEAT IS EATING ME!"_

_"Snkkt! Heh...you're on your own, B.B."_


	61. Tear

﻿

I'm sitting at the kitchen counter in the Main Room.

Alone in the dark.

In the middle of the night.

There is a mug of cold, unheated tea resting in front of me.

But I'm not touching it.

I sit there.

Lingering on into the night.

Clutching my head in my hands.

Staring deathily into the countertop.

Blinded by the shadows of night.

Silent...

Still...

And...

I do not notice her until the footsteps arrive behind me.

Nor do I notice--at first--the distant, bright light from the open stairwell through which she has entered...

Her foosteps are accompanied by a yawning voice.

"Nnngh...R-Raven?"

Terra's voice.

She is tyred.

Her hair is in dissarray.

She's dressed in pajamas and is in her bare feet.

"...," I am silent. I don't bat an eye in the blindness...

"... ... ...Raven?"

She shuffles up and stands over me.

She dips her golden head down.

Her eyes are brighter...awakened by concern...

"Raven...what are you doing here?"

"... ... ...," I take a deep...shuddering breath. I keep sitting there. I remain dormant. I shake...and I shiver...and I clutch my silken blue head of hair tighter. And--against my control--a tear creeps out of my eye and slides down my cheek.

Terra gasps at that. "Raven...a-are you _crying?_"

"Raven...Talk to me. What are you doing up here in the middle of the night?"

"... ... ... ...I...I-I d-don't know..."

"... ... ... ...," I sniffle. My head shakes in my own grasp. "...I...I-I couldn't sleep...I..."

Silence.

"... ... ...I can't sleep... ... ...just...c-can't...r-right n-n-now..."

Another tear rolls down.

I don't bother hiding it.

I just sit there...and leak...and sniffle...

And shiver within my own grasp.

Almost wishing almost hoping almost dying to crush this fragile skull between these pale palms.

"...," Terra shuffles about. She slides in and sits on the stool next to me. She props herself against the counter, leans over, and wraps an arm around me.

"... ... ...," I don't bother moving. I don't fight her off of me.

She holds me closely...and yet, there is a respectful distance.

She leans in...and I can feel her breath. Her voice. Warm and painfully soothing against my iced neck...

"Many of us have a hard time sleeping on occasion..."

I can detect a slight shaking in her voice as she now says: "Only...a few of us have a good reason for it..."

I clench my eyes shut at that. I bite my lip.

She pulls...

I lean against Terra.

"I'm sorry you're crying, Raven..."

I say nothing.

"For whatever it is..."

I remain their, frozen...

"...I'm sorry..."

Crying...


	62. Hold

﻿

I want to be held.

I want to be warm...safe...secure...

I want to be...happy...

I am that dark girl that Cyborg fights to understand and Beast Boy loves to tease.

I am that spoil sport that Starfire tries to cheer up and Robin tries to motivate.

I am a mystery and a relic and a curse...and I know far too much about myself to keep on existing without an inevitable weight of guilt.

But that does not mean that I lack the desire to desire...

To be selfish.

To want that which everyone wants.

In the darkness of the secluded corners that I afford myself, I dream.

Selfishly, I dream...

Call them what you want...

...Prince Charming fantasies...

... ...Home sick musings...

... ... ...Daydreams of a livelier existence...

... ... ... ...I dream, and I dream often.

I dream--not in expectation of receiving that which is beyond my eternal reach--but for the sake of dreaming itself.

More and more these nights, lying alone under the covers...

I imagine that I am not alone.

Somebody...anybody and nobody...

Somebody is holding me.

Somebody is driving all of my fears away...weathering all of my withheld sobs...lulling all my unlaughed muses...

I know that emotions are dangerous for me.

I know that trying to live a normal life is absurd, for my father's grasp on me is absolute.

And fateful.

But I also know that I am alive.

Every day that I fight crime alongside my teammates.

Every moment my heart beats the adrenaline tempo of a mad pursuit or a brush with death...

I know that I live.

And it horrifies me.

And...it's not that I seek an escape from that which is inescapable...

But I seek solace...for sanity's sake.

I can meditate to perfect my powers.

I can center myself and keep control over my emotions.

I can do everything that the Book of Azar teaches me in order to preserve what little integrity my soul self contains in this universe.

But at least...

For all that is left to be sacred...

I can warm myself.

I can warm myself with the mere temptation of what it must be to live warmly.

The temptation to reach out and someday _truly_ have someone who could hold me.

And protect me.

And purge me of my agonies.

I know that will never happen.

I know everything that _will_ tke place...And everything that I have feared that will only come painfully true...

But most of all, I know what I cannot be allowed...

And to fantasize...To produce a thought that is at least one-fourth the substance of the real, blood-beating thing...

A girl like me--I think--can pretend.

And hold onto that which is warming solely for the absurd notion of itself...

Yes...

She can pretend...


	63. Chu

﻿

"Hehehehe!" Terra giggles in the back of the T-Car. "Beast Boy! Stopppp!"

"Heh heh...ain't happening, dudette," he hugs her...practically smothers her. "You should have called shotgun when you had the chance! Now you've got me to deal with!"

"Pfft! Like you'd really DO anything!" Terra sticks her tongue out and shoves him. _WHUMP!_ "Look at you! You're a frickin' noodle!"

"Yeah?" Beast Boy slumps against the inside car door and points at her, giggling. "And YOU'RE a twig!"

"You're both dead...," I drone, sitting in the front passenger seat and leaning boredly against the window frame. The T-Car is seated in the parking lot of a diner. Cyborg has walked in to grab some food to-go. We are waiting for him...and I am being tortured. "...can you--I don't know--be a little less loud about your hormones?"

"H-Hormones?" Terra blinks, blushing like a cherry under a spotlight.

"Yeesh!" Beast Boy rolls his eyes. "What's with you always needing everything so peaceful and quiet, Raven?" He leans forward against the back of the driver's seat and tilts his head over to smirk at me. Big toothy grin and wiggling, green eyebrows. "Are we getting a little too sensuous back here for your liking?"

"Eeek! Beast Boy!" Terra kicks him in the side. "You're impossible!"

"Hehehehe!"

My forehead pulses. I glare out the window and mutter: "Please...You two are about as raunchy as diapered infants splashing around in the plastic ball pool of a McDonald's...and just about as eloquent as well..."

"Seriously, do you have a migraine every other day?" Beast Boy smirks and sits back in his seat. "I think it's all that tea you're drinking! It's harmful to--uhm--your medulla uber-glotta or something..."

"Medulla uber-what?" Terra giggles madly. "Hehehehehe!"

I sigh. "There...is nothing...wrong...with tea..."

"O rly...?"

"What _is_ hazardous to your health...," I sneer and glare over my shoulder. "...is choking on the food that Cyborg's about to bring you."

"Is that a threat?"

"Consider it a memo..."

"Hehehe...Oh Raven," Terra smiles. "You're too funny. All the creative ways you like to bite Beast Boy's head off...No wonder you two didn't date for long."

I growl. "For the LAST...TIME..." I clench my fists. "Beast Boy... ...and I... ...NEVER... ...DATED..."

"Hehehehe!"

"Hehehheheh!"

"I don't know WHY he keeps _lying_ to you and saying that--What in Azar's name are you doing now?"

"I dunno! Beast Boy--hehehe--quit it! For crying out loud, we're superheroes and stuff! People are going to see us horseplaying around!"

"Hehehehe...Let them! Heck, I can turn into a stallion and make it easy for them!"

"Hehehe!"

"Take you once around the block!"

"ACK! N-Now you're tickling me! Stop it!"

"Nuh uh! Gotta say 'pretty pleeeeeease'!"

"ACK! Hehehehe-PRETTY PLEASE!"

"Uh Uh...speak a little closer...Like...right into my ear."

"Hehehe...You just want me to nibble your pointed lobes again, don't you--ACK! STOP IT! HEHEHEHEHEEEE!"

"Hehehehe!"

The T-Car shakes with their.. .. ...'wrestling'...

I groan...I rub my temple and shut my eyes.

I sense a metallic mass walking up. Followed by the scent of chilli dogs and oil-greased titanium.

"I'm back, y'all! I hope you didn't fall asleep after---Aw Hell, you two can't stop...can ya?"

"Cyborg! Tell him to stop tickling me!"

"I think you've got the power to rock him out of his skull if he gets too fresh, little missy!"

"Dude, Cy! What are you trying to suggest? We're just...ya know...having a good, ol' fashion tickling contest is all!"

"Right. That's why you've got hickies on your neck."

"Eeep!"

"Hahahaha! Snark!"

Cyborg sits in the driver's seat, opens a tray in the T-Car's seat frame, and props the food down. He takes one look at me...blinks...and smiles. "So...how you holdin' up with the love birds?"

"Cyanide...Cyanide now..."

"Awwww, Raven..."

"Tell me they gave you cyanide packets with those curly fries..."

Cyborg winks. "Just admit it, girl. It's annoying for you to listen to them and stuff only because you look forward to being in their place one day."

"... ... ..." I look at him.

"... ... ..." He looks at me.

"... ... ..." My violet eyes blink. "... ... ... ..you are too stupid to be amusing."

"Heheheh...there's a Romeo to be had inside of you someday, girl..."

"There's not even a Juliette, Mercutio, or a Tybalt to be found...," I take my cold smoothie from the tray and rub it against my throbbing head as the two giggle in the backseat. "...besides... ...Act Three of _Julius Caesar_ is the only thing appealing to me right now..."

"Heh...Cheer up, Rae," Cyborg grins as he starts up the T-Car. "I got cinnamon twists!.!.!"

"Cinnamon twists...hmmm...," my lips curve slightly. "You are still you, Cyborg."

"Heh...Aren't I, though?"

_"Eeep! Hehe! Beast Boy, quit it!"_

"Your voice says no, but your ovaries say 'yes'!"

"What's that supposed to mean? Hehehe!"

"Hehehehe--HEY! You what Thomas the Train Engine did on his honeymoon?"

"What?"

"THIS! Chuuu--"

"Ack! Not there! That tickles!"

"Chuuuuu!"

"Hehehe! Beast Boyyyy--Dah! Egads, I'm going to faint..."

"Heheh...CHUUUUU!"

"HEHEHEHEHEEEE!"  


"Nnnngh...," I reach a hand over a red button on the dashboard. "This what I think it is?"

"Huh? Yeah...Self-Destruct mechanism, why?"

_Click!_

"RAE!"

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

_"ACK!"_

_"Chuuuu---.. ... ...Okay dudes, time to urinate."_


	64. Charm

﻿

"Raven..."

"...Raven...tell me what you are feeling... ..."

I take a long, shuddering breath.

I am sitting against the cold window of the Main Room.

Looking out onto the gray world of a wet, rainy afternoon.

I could just as well be huddled within the rigid confines of this sill.

I haven't expected anyone to see me. I had tought that everyone had gone out for the day.

But Robin's been here. And right now, he kneels beside me.

Imploring...

"Please... ...Please, Raven. I only want to help."

A minute passes.

Two minutes.

Robin hangs his head.

He gets up.

He turns and makes to leave--

"Robin, I'm sorry..."

He freezes in his steps.

He doesn't look at me.

But I hear him...

"Raven, **I'm** sorry. I'm sorry that nothing I can ever do or say is of any help or consolation to you..."

"Only because I have.. ...n-never let you or any of the other Titans help me.. ... ...not outright..."

"And in all honesty, Raven...," he turns around and faces me. _Though I am not facing him._ "...I cannot rightfully blame you for your distance. Not entirely."

"When Trigon took over.. ...when he turned the world into darkness and the Titans had to face the apocalypse to defeat him... ... ... ...we all finally... ..._finally_ got a picture as to what haunts your life. The essence of your darkness. What it is that chases you into the long, cold nights you choose to spend alone."

I bite my lip.

I hug myself slightly and scrunch further into the glass, gray world.

"How could anyone..._anyone **possibly**_ manage to weather that grim and hideous reality all by herself? It's...It's... ... ...It's _unimaginable_, Raven. I wish we had an idea. We would have tried _harder_ to.. ... ...to reach you somehow..."

"You all have done enough," I murmur. "... ...far more than I could ever ask of you."

"Raven... ..."

"And I'm sorry that I forced it upon you. I'm sorry that I made you and Starfire and Beast Boy and Cyborg go through such horror on my behalf. Now my father's spirit roams the unknown cosmos, and Slade is at large and with his own body back. You and I both know that they'll back some day. Maybe not as a team.. ...but they will continue to haunt my future. **_Our_** future."

"Raven," Robin sighs. "We've been through this. Trigon was defeated."

"**He will be back someday."**

"... ... ... ...you yourself blasted him into oblivion."

I lower my eyes. "That's how I know he'll be back... .. ..."

"... .. ...," Robin sighs and runs a hand through his spiked hair.

"Again, Robin. I'm sorry. Being with you and the Titans.. ... ...it's a danger. It's a hazard. It's always has been. And it always will be. And you and the Titans saw what my destiny can bring. And---"

"And we don't care."

I flinch. I shudder.

Robin looks at me with concern. "Raven.. ... ...?"

"How...H-How can you have so much _faith_ in me?"

"Faith is only part of it, Raven," Robin gestures...walking back over to the cold window where I am seated. "You've more than proven to us that you're someone with limitless trust, maturity, dependency, and--"

"What does it really amount to in the end, Robin?"

"... ... .. ... ...do I really need to say it out loud, Raven?"

"... ... ..." He takes a deep breath and ever so slightly smiles. "_You_...need to **hear** it, don't you?"

I gulp. I choke forth a wavering: "Y-Yes..."

He kneels down again. He rests a hand softly on my blue-robed shoulder. In a soft breath, the Titan leader says: "Raven...we are your friends. We are your friends and we **love **you."

My throat turns sore. I try not to show it, but my eyes are misty...

"What more could you expect from us? Heheh...You're so humble as it is-"

"NO... ... ...N-No...I'm not..."

"... .. ...?" Robin leans his head to the side. "... ...Raven?"

"When...Wh-When things were coming down to the wire... .. ...and the prophecy was being fulfilled...," I murmur. I fight back a choking breath and continue. "...I tried to leave you and the Titans. I thought that if I returned to Azarath, this world might be spared. But I found my City in ruins...and my mother gone. You remember this, don't you?"

Robin nods...

"... ... ...that wasn't the first time I tried to leave you and the Titans, Robin."

"It wasn't?"

I shake my head. I speak: "So many times before.. ...I tried to leave. I summoned portals... ...levitated across the City... ...even hiked once from the Tower. In every circumstance, bare necessities alone kept me from making it out entirely on my own. But the fact of the matter is, I tried. I made every conscious effort--no matter how much I struggled. I... ...I didn't want to bring the eventual doom that did indeed threaten you and the others... ... ...and this world."

Robin slowly nods.

Listening...

"But now...," I shudder. I cling to myself. I feel like the scared, confused little girl in white whom Robin himself carried through Hell. "... ...now I do not have that feeling."

"You don't?"

I shake my head. I squeak forth. "I-I don't w-want to leave. Because now I know... ...I-I finally realize... ... ...That even if T-Trigon comes back... ... ...There's no place in all existence... ... ...N-No place in the universe... ...That I'd rather be.. ...Th-Than with my friends..." I look at Robin. My vision is foggy. "...Because you are all so... ...so very protective of me. In a world full of darkness, I now know where there is warmth. And even if that warmth is just a fraction of _hope_ for me, it's more than enough. And I am so... ...so very selfish this time around. So very s-selfish, Robin..."

"For what?" He smiles gently. "For wanting to be with your friends?"

I shudder and shut my eyes. "... ...do you even listen to a word I say?"

He squeezes my shoulder slightly. "Raven... ..."

I look at him weakly...

He leans forward. "You do realize--now--that if you were to try 'leaving us' again... ...that at this point, we'd hunt you down across the entire universe till we grounded you in your room or something."

"... ...Huh?"

"Heheheheh...What I mean is," he gestures. "... ...We didn't go through doomsday just to see you walk off and exist in self-obliteration. You're not the only 'selfish' one, Raven. For as much as you don't want to let go of what we've given you... ...we don't want to let go of what you've given us."

"... ... ...and what have I given all of you, Robin?"

"Yourself, Raven. We don't want to be without you."

"Do you believe that?"

"Just what's so spanking special about me anyways?"

"... ... .." He blinks.

I stare at him.

"... ... ... ..." He blushes somewhat.

I sniffle and raise an eyebrow.

"... .. ... ..." His lips curve. "Charm."

I blink. "Charm?"

"You have... ..._charm_...Raven."

"How in Azar's name do I have charm?"

He stands up and offers me a hand. "Stick around with us--as selfishly as you'd wish--and give us the time to find out together."

"... .. ... ...," I exhale and manage a weak smile. "Sounds lame... ... ..._I'll do it..."_ I raise a hand to his.

He helps me up to my feet. "Now...let's get away from cold windows and join the rest in having pizza. That sound okay?"

"Uhm... ..." I fidget.

"Hmm? You've got better ideas?"

"Pizza's kinda getting old for me. How about... ... ..something different... ..."

"As long as you promise not to feel selfish in asking..." He points with a smirk.

I adjust my robe and shyly glance aside. "... ... ... ...would ice cream be okay?"

"Heh. You kidding? Beast Boy will flip. Let's go..."

Robin leads the way towards the elevator of the Main Room.

I take a deep breath.

I slowly shuffle after him.

Pulling the hood over my head.

"Hmmm... ... ... ..._charm... ... ..."_

I smirk to myself ever so secretly in the shadow of my own garb.

_"... ... ...I never thought I'd live through Apocalypse to be labeled with that..."_

Anything is possible.


	65. Storm

﻿

_**FL-FLASH!**_

-

-

-

-

-

_**RUMMMMMBBBBLE!.!.!.!**_

"OHHHHhhhhh_hhhhhhhh!"_ Starfire moans behind me.

My forehead pulses. Sitting by the rain-streaked window, I flip a page in my book and shine the flashlight on the latest chapter of my horror story that I'm reading.

Beyond me and the window, the soaked City lights up intermittently with loud booming noises, courtesy of Mother Nature.

_"OhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHhhhhhh...,"_ Starfire continues to moan under the thunder.

"Starfire... ...Will you _please_ stop making those whining noises?"

"When will the power turn back onnnnn_nnnnnn?"_ she whimpers.

"It's not the Tower's decision when or if the power will turn back on--

"IF?"

"Relax, Starfire. The power's out because of the storm. We're in the tallest, sturdiest building in the entire City. A fortress--more or less. We are FINE here."

"But I most assuredly do not feel the 'fine'!" she bites her lip.

_**FL-FLASH!**_

-

-

-

-

**_RUMMMMM-MMMMMBLE!_**

"Ohhhhh!" She hugs a couch pillow to her chest and scrunches into the depths of the room's furniture. "Why must meteorological storms on Terra Firma be so hideously frightening?"

"You get used to it...," I murmur and flip another page, shining my flashlight. "...in fact...you grow to like it."

"Hmmm? But Raven, how can someone grow to admire something so frightening?"

"It's rather simple really."

"Is it a matter of masochistic passion?"

I sigh. "**No.**"

"Then what--pray X'Hal tell--empowers an individual to develop a passion for that which threatens our very well-being?"

"What many people tend to forget--Star--is that language doesn't hold a very clear definition between 'fear' and 'exaltation'."

"Huh?" she blinks sheepishly from behind the pillow.

**_FL-FLASH!_**

_**RUMMMMBLE!**_

_"Eeep!"_ She hids her face.

I look over towards her and murmur: "Humankind has learned to both worship and fear that which is unknown. Does it make our lives any easier or safer? Probably not. But if we live everyday and night in total despair, we are hardly living at all."

"You mean to convey---?"

"I mean to convey that the scary things in life help us remember that we are living to begin with. How can one define light without darkness? Or peace of mind without chaos?"

Starfire nervously manages a smile. "O-Or Robin's gentle laughter without his ill-tempered yell!"

I blink at her. "Excuse me?"

"Erm...," she blushes and hides again.. ... ...this time for a different reason. "N-Nothing!"

"... ... ... ...whatever...," I turn back to my book, turn a page, and murmur into the flashlight's glow. "I happen to like storms, and I'm not ashamed of that."

"Then wh-what is it that you are afraid of, Raven?"

"I don't do fear."

Starfire leans her head to the side. "But did you not just confess that life with hardship and uncertainty is most clearly and positively defined--?"

"Just because I don't fear doesn't mean there isn't a certain level of darkness in my life," I murmur.

_**FL-FLASH!**_

-

-

-

-

-

**_RUMMMMMBLE!_**

I go on as Starfire flinches.

"There are plenty of things in my life to fear--_Okay, a **lot** of things_. But I like to think that I've grown accustomed, wary, and wise enough to accept such things with good measure and to prepare my life rather than set it up for a fall."

"Y-You speak of your emotions... ... ..of the darkness attached to your powers?"

"I simply mean to say that--at this point in my life...," I narrow my eyes and focus on my book. "... ...it would take an awful lot to scare me--"

**_THWOMP!_**

A wet, green, pointy-eared, furry thing slams up against the window right beside me from the outside. **_FLASSSH!_**

_"DUDES!" (**RUMMMBLE!**) "YOU GOTTA HELP ME! I'M STUCK OUTSIDE THE TOWER AND IT'S **RAINING CATS AND DOGS! LITERALLY! LIKE ME!"**_

**"AAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAH!" **I shriek. My blue hair does a twirl and--

**_POWWW!_**

My chair explodes and I'm tossed across the room and into Starfire's unwitting body.

_Wh-Whump!_

"EEK!"

"OOF!"

_Th-THWUMP!_ We form a tangled girl-pile on the floor. Strobe-lit by the rumbling maelstrom outside.

_"DUDES? GIRLS?"_ Beast Boy murmurs as he slides down the outside glass, forming a wet streakin in the rain. _"SERIOUSLY. LIKE, I CAN'T GET IN. WILL YOU PLEASE HELP--GUYS? YAAAH!" _He slides out of view.

"... ... ... ... ... ..._Friend Raven?"_

"... ... ... ...Yes, Star?"

_"... ... ... ...I want you to know that--because we are both not only trusted companions but also mature members of the same sex--I hold no hostility towards your accidental contact with my grebnaks at this moment..."_

"... ... ... ..."

_"B-But I would be very much appreciative if you were to attempt rising up from your entanglement with me."_

"... ... ...uh...r-right, Star...I am sorry..."

_"Do not feel obligated to apologize, Raven. May I ask... ...are you damaged?"_

"Uh..."

_"Hmmm?"_

"I f-fear for my underpants..."


	66. Lines

﻿

You may or may not  
Give tithe for the dying day...  
...These hours and seconds  
Are just famine fondled pigeons  
Begging for bread in the park

I haven't given a thought for wings  
Until now...  
...Now and foremost for the  
Wheat field wench within me  
Who holds back, Who holds back

And I saw her as she saw me  
Running past the fountain  
With flying rat wings

And it was the birth of a dream  
And yet I couldn't be happier...  
...Lying there between the chapel seats  
Forever asleep

* * *

If it wasn't for this job  
I would satellite my soul to pasture  
If it wasn't for this job  
This job...

If it weren't for these papers  
These mountains and spines of papers  
I would be all the being that has been  
Has been...

And this is what puts the sorrow into people  
This sardine-can slide into Sartre-cide  
Heaven help us if Heaven helps Itself  
To mend the women and men who  
Service life's legislature

* * *

Mosaic  
Cubed from the outside  
A mandala  
That never blows away

A dream  
To be a centenarian  
Our pasts  
Laid out in stone

One hundred years  
The same old fear...

In light  
Of fire on the wayside  
Marking all  
We've won and wailed

Dear friends  
Eternity Fraternity  
I couldn't be  
A happier stone

One hundred years  
In separate spheres

For your dreams aloft  
For you're sailing off  
For your gentle-soft  
For your cream of the crop  
For your love enough  
For you're living, living, living, living

One hundred years  
And I'll be here  
One hundred years  
And I'll be here  
One hundred years  
And I'll be here  
And I'll be here  
And I'll be here

One hundred years  
And I'll be here  
One hundred years  
And I'll be here  
One hundred years  
And I'll be here  
And I'll be here  
And I'll be here

* * *

It's all just pretending without pretending  
Lending an ear to sacred, shadowed fears  
It sinks, therefore it grows

I'm not really your friend  
I'm just eating the crust around the butter  
I live, therefore I die

In ever-winter time  
You will leave me alone  
These snowflakes are merely  
Scattered seed  
Masquerading across  
The headstones

I'm hardly a lamb  
I'm the hole in the hand  
That drains the doubt from Hell

It's not really beautiful  
The world just spins around me  
Holy doom, therefore I breathe

* * *

Do you know why I am sleeping?  
Because I am always waking up

Your laughing, you're screaming  
You can't leave me untouched

Please never leave  
And never die  
These four squawking heads  
Keep me beating inside  
I cannot say what I cannot say  
I only want to hear you alive  
A sentimental solace between the sighs

Every breakfast wreaks  
Of sarcasm and such

I wouldn't hate you  
Unless I loved you so much

Meandering, Meandering  
Saturated sacrificing

Hell's daughter must be cursed  
To be blessed so much

Please never leave  
And never die  
These four squawking heads  
Keep me beating inside  
I cannot say what I cannot say  
I only want to hear you alive  
A sentimental solace between the sighs

Do you know why I'm staying?  
It's for all I've missed

Understand through misunderstanding  
I would ever, ever be  
Your morning kiss

And never leave  
Never die  
Four squawking heads  
Keep me beating inside  
I cannot say what I cannot say  
I only want to hear you alive  
A sentimental solace between the sighs  
A sentimental solace between the sighs

* * *

-Raven


	67. Grace

﻿

Beast Boy is dying.

He's lying in my arms as we are surrounded by a sea of red.

The sky turns to crimson.

The Oceans churn up blood.

And every single living thing is turning to stone. Twisting, granite corpses. Frozen forever in tortured, writhing poses.

The redness is creeping up towards the splotch of concrete where Beast Boy and I are sheltered.

In the distance, the demonic laughter of my father echoes across the hellish theatre.

Beast Boy twitches. Blood seaps out from his lips. He quivers and clutches a mess of lacerations dug into his neck. The mark of a demon...

"J-Just stay calm, Beast Boy...," I pant. I murmur. My long blue hair waves in the hot air as the redness seaps closer... ..._closer..._ "I'm going to think us a way out. Th-There has to be..."

"Nnngh...Sllppp... .. ...R-Raven...," he whispers at me. Choking on blood. He twitches. "Nightwing.. ...Starfire.. .. ..a-and Cyborg.. ... .. ..they are still out there... .. ..If anyone c-can do anything... .. ...it's you and _them_. Slpp--_snkktk_.. .. ...d-don't waste y-your time.. ... .on m-me..."

"No..._No!"_ I hold tighter to Beast Boy and look around us, hyperventilating.

The red aura is creeping up the slab of a buildingside we're one. Heat and sulfur boil. Scraps of plants and dead insects are turning into tortured stones in a wave towards us.

We are trapped.

"... ...I'm not letting all of you suffer...," I seethe. "_Not again!"_

"Raven... .. .."

"I... ...I-I brought this upon the world.. .. ..I should be able to get us out--"

"Raven.. .. ...n-neither one of us...snkkt... .. ..is st-strong enough to f-fly... .. ...and b-b-besidesssnkkt...," Beast Boy wheezes. He tilts a sickly head towards the redness creeping up the slab. "... .. ...the blood... ...snkkkt... ... ..remind me again... ...wh-what happens... ... ..when I t-turn to stone... .. ...?"

I bite my lip...

He looks weakly at me. ".. ...it is Hell, isn't it? Slpp---Everyone t-turned to stone... .. ..lives h-his nightmares inside h-his head... .. ..slppp... ...for eternity, or something, r-right...?"

I clench my eyes shut. "... ...Yes... ...Yes, Beast Boy... ..."

His lips quiver. He leans into me and gurgles. "I... .. ..I-I would r-really _not want that to happen... ... .."_ He stares at me for as long as he can.

I start to shake. And to shiver. I bite my lip and slowly... .. ...slowly nod...

Beast Boy exhales. He falls limp in my grasp and chokes on more blood.

I gently.. ...gently reposition myself so that my hand is holding him up by the back of his head and my other hand is resting on his chest.

"Snkkkkt... ... ...pl-please... ..._please, Raven..."_

**Flassssh!**

The red touches his feet. His toes and ankles turn to stone. The torturous granite travels up his body, metamorphasizing him into agonized marvel. Slowly, inch by inch.

He shudders as tears roll out of his bleeding eyes. _"P-Please..."_

I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Beast Boy...," my hand travels slowly up the front of his body. "... .. ...I'm s-so sorry..."

"Snkkkt... ...D-Don't be sorry...," Beast Boy whispers with a distant, infantile voice. He leans his head back as his knees... ..thighs... ...and waist turns to stone. I can feel the short green hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. ".. ...y-you are an angel, Raven... .. ..only th-that..."

I take a sharp breath. My hand travels up.. ...and clamps over his face. Two fingers digging into his forehead. I meditate...Meditate...

_"Sllpp... ...T-Terra...,"_ Beast Boy wheezes as a final tear rolls down his eyes. _"... .. ..Terra... ..I-I'm so sorry I cannot join you..."_

The stone transformation is up to his shoulders.

I take one breath... ...two...

"... ... .. ..."

**_POW!.!.!.!_**

A wave of black telekinesis surges through my wrist.

Beast Boy's skull implodes just seconds before the stone can consume him.

The granite transformation stops just inches below the meaty remains of his cranium.

And he's silent.. ...

And peaceful... ...

Forever...

I fall to my knees.

Shaking.

Tears rolling down my pale cheeks...

"... ... ... .. ..."

**_"... .. ...my daughterrrr..."_**

I inhale sharply.

His voice rumbles through the world and shakes me.

**_".. ... ..you know perfectly well.. ... ...you cannot save ALL of them... .. ..."_**

A wave of dark magic pulses over the sea of blood.

Sulfur and ash rise.

And what's left of Beast Boy's body roasts before my very eyes.

**_"Hrhkkk-hah hah hah HAH HAH HAH HAH!"_**

I forget how long I am screaming.

There is no sleeping in this land of echoes.


	68. Kinx

﻿

"Nnngh...why don't you get us out of this already?

"Why don't YOU get us out of this?"

"I can't! If I snap the chains with my hex, the detonator will trigger off!"

"And I don't have the strength to teleport us out of here!"

"Pffft... ...You're useless."

"And you aren't HELPING!"

"Helping what?.?.? As long as we're both stranded here, EVERYONE is screwed!"

"You don't think I know that... .. ...?"

"Help me figure out a way out of here."

"I'm _trying!_ But I can't even START to meditate with you **squawking your head off** the entire time!"

"Nnnngh..."

"Dear Azar above... ... ..."

It is a dark, dank basement room. Full of pipes, abandoned stoves, metal storage racks, and spiderwebs.

I'm sitting in a chair with my arms tied and my body chained tightly to the seat. But I am not along. For directly behind my shoulders is another chair, where someone else is tied and chained to the same beeping explosive sensor that I'm bound to.

And it's not just _any_ 'someone', it's--

"Between the two of us, we should be able to snap apart that wretched bomb...," I hear Jinx hiss. She shakes and wobbles in her binds directly behind me. "Maybe if I only used half of my degree of hex powers and you mustered up as much weak pulses of your--erm--'dark stuff' or whatever your telekinesis is called, we can shut the thing off from the inside out and then work on getting out of these chains!"

"I doubt it's that simple... ...," I glare into the brick-laid wall of shadows beyond me as I drone. "H.I.V.E. is an organization that revolves around efficiency. Even after Brother Blood was defeated, they didn't take to kidnappings and assaults on innocent lives lightly. They want the two of us held here for a reason. And anything we can think or possibly do in contrast to their plans will only end in our self-termination."

"Even if we w-worked together?" she meows from behind me. "Surely, they couldn't expect _that!_"

"Why wouldn't they?" I frown, half-trying to look over my shoulder at her. "The H.I.V.E. has been targeting everyone who partook in the defeat of The Brain and his Brotherhood of Evil in Paris!"

"So?"

"YOU were there, Jinx! For all the H.I.V.E. know, you're on the Titan's side..."

"Pffft-HAH! That's rich!"

I narrow my violet eyes on my surroundings. "Whatever..."

"H.I.V.E. is just after me because I was once a part of the H.A.E.Y.P. division before I _ditched_, them. Good riddance, too! Just took a little therapy to see the light.. ...or whatever fluff that is..."

"Whatever it is about Kid Flash is between you and him."

"Hey!" Our chairs rock. "What's _THAT_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing..."

"EGADS.. ...You are the worst conversationalist in the world!"

"That's a lie and you know it."

"... ... ... ... ...got me there."

"I guess... ..."

Silence.

"... ..."

"... ...how much explosive power do you suppose this detonator is attached to?" the pink head behind me asks.

"Why? Are you wanting to end it all that soon?"

"I'm just trying to explore all options before all options aren't around to explore with."

"We have only one option..."

"Oh yeah? And what's that, sunshine?"

My forehead pulses. I calm down and murmur: "We wait here for the Titan's to come. Robin--of all people--knows how badly H.I.V.E. has been on the hunt for allies to our team. Whether or not you _count_ as that--I don't care. But H.I.V.E. does, and they'll do great bodily harm to us in due time if we don't give them the tactical information they need to launch a full-scale assault on Titan's Tower, the Justice League's Watchtower, and even Fawcett City."

"Bogus! We're not doing that!"

"... .. ... ..why not?"

"Maybe YOU want to wait for the Titans. But me? No no no.. ...I can't quite _handle_ that sort of a risk."

"We're sitting back to back in two wooden chairs... ...our hands are bound.. .. ... .and we're chained to enough explosions to paint this basement's walls with our internal organs," I drone. "... . ...what is or _isn't_ risky at this point?"

"What I'm saying is, we've got to come an agreement to do something that is equally suited to _both _of our interests."

"And I say we should wait for the Titans."

"And **I** say we should use what's available of our mutual powers and break free of these bindings!"

"And we're not going to try and break free of our bindings..." I groan.

"And we're NOT going to wait for the Titans!" She hisses.

"Then that means..."

"...we do something else in between!"

Silence.

More silence.

"... ... .. ..." I stare at the wall.

"... .. ... .. ." She sits still behind me.

"... .. .. ... .. ...so, do you like show tunes?"

I groan. I shake my head and clench my eyes shut. "... ...**NO**."

"Well, what the heck do you want to talk about?"

"What are we **EVER** talking about?"

".. .. ...," her brow scrunches. "..._what are you **talking** about?"_

"... ... ... ... .. ... .. ...never mind..."

"No, seriously!"

"It's just that..."

"What?"

"... .. ... ...I know fate's been cruel to all of us..."

"Yeah... ..."

"And I know that--as soon as we somehow get free from these binds--we'll both be as much enemies to each other as we've ever been..."

"Right.. .. .. ..."

"And yet... ...all this time you've been my mortal enemy," I murmur. "... .. ...but I can't help but think you've been the easiest person to talk to in the last three years of my life."

"Even easier than talking to the Titans."

"... ..n-not... ... ...not that it really matters for you to know that or--"

"Don't you hate the word 'schizophrenia'?"

"... .. ..._excuse me?"_

"Schizophrenia!" She turns her pink head to glance aside and over her shoulder. "The way everyone overuses it and all that stuff..."

'Why should I care?"

"Do you or don't you hate it?.?.?"

"Nnnngh...," my face turns red and my forehead pulses. Is pit: "_Yes!_ I hate it! But I don't see how that means anything--"

"Cuz I think it's just plain stupid. I mean--_you ever watch daytime t.v. these days?"_

"I try not to..."

"Just turn on CNN or an A&E documentary and there it is! Everytime there's a psychobabble conversation...BLAM! 'Uhhh, yes, I believe the child was displaying a _schizoid_ personality, what with his different personalities inside his head at conflict with one another'."

"Well, that's wrong."

"YEAH! And why is that?"

"Because schizophrenia is quite simply an imbalance of brain chemicals and synaptic functions that causes an individual's perspective of both reality and _assumed _reality to be blurred. Having multiple personalities in his or her head may be a _side effect_ and _component_ of 'schizophrenia', but to call somehone a 'schizophrenic' solely to describe his or her potential to display an split personality is completely erroneous."

"Besides, there are two different levels of split personality disorder."

"Yeah, I know. Multiple personality disorder--"

"And dissociative personality disorder."

"Well, that's a developing term..."

"But it makes sense, right? Sure, many of us may have our egos and ids at so much conflict that--on a psychoanalytical scale--we develop multiple different _facades_ to deal with everything on a daily basis. But the fact is, when such a schism of emotional display happens--subconsciously or not, we are _aware_ of the emotions and the actions we are partaking in. But...NOW...a _dissociative_ personalit disorder is when for whatever reason a person's brain develops contrastingly DIFFERENT and UNRELATED personalities existing within one being."

"Right...," I nod. "A rarity at best, but that's the sort of thing Hollywood has exploded out of proportion through sensationalist stories of melodrama and--"

"'The Three Faces of Eve'?"

I shudder. "Ugh..."

"Hehehe...or just go see 'Identity' or 'Secret Window' or what-have-you. _Hectate Alive_, it never changes!"

"Don't talk to me about movies," I drone. "The only ones I ever watch have Christopher Lee in them."

"Gawds..._you are SO predictable._"

"Well, at least my movies don't have unicorns in them..."

_"SNKKKT!"_ The chair behind me rocks. "WHAT DID KID FLASH TELL YOU?"

My lips curve slightly. "Only... ...enough..."

"That...two-timing.. ...stupid...nngh...STUPID HEAD!"

"Next time you're in prison, I should visit you so you could show me your drawings..."

"Grrrrrrrrr--"

"I'll bring along my 'Jack Skellington' pen&inks..."

"GRRRRRRRRRR!"

A pink aura fills the room.

The walls rumble.

The pipes shake.

The chairs start to rattle together.

I sweatdrop. "Uhm... ...Jinx?"

"NNNGHHHHH!"

"...**JINX!"**

**"WHAT?"**

_Snap!_

We both freeze.

"... ..."

We look down at ourselves.

The chains and ropes have completely snapped.

A faint, pink aura flutters about them.

We raise our arms and flex our fingers...

"... ...uhhh..."

"You...Y-You freed us...," I shuffle up to my feet and stare at the chairs.

So does she. "But...B-But..."

I squint at the shattered chain links. "Why hasn't the detonator gone off?"

Jinx bites her lip.

We both look at the little black box situated beneath our empty chairs.

Silence... .. ... .. ...

Then...

_Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep!_

"Great Azar...," I gnash my teeth.

"EEP!" Jinx hops, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh jeez Oh jeez Oh jeez! It's gonna blow! It's gonna bl-blow us to bits!"

"CALM DOWN." I look desperately around for an exit. "If we hurry, we just might be able to--

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!_

"We're gonna die! Oh jeez! Oh jeez! My f-first kiss...I'LL NEVER HAVE MY FIRST KISS! I-I..." she looks around, panting. She glances at me and gasps. "OF COURSE!"

I make a face. "What are you talking about---" THWOMP! "--_MMMMMMFFF!"_

**_KABOOOOOOOM!.!.!.!_**


	69. Fish

﻿

"Wow, Bumblebee. Great idea having us all go to somewhere fancy for once!"

"Heh...you call _Red Lobster_ 'fancy', Cyborg?"

"Well, what I mean to say is--"

"Not pizza."

"Right, Speedy."

"Heheheheheee! Oh, it is marvelous to enjoy such festivity with our increased ranks!"

"Hey, I figured--ya know. Steel City... ... ...port town... ...lots of seafood! That's just the perfect thing to treat you guys. I mean--after all--you _are_ the **originals**!"

"Here here!"

"Unnnghhhh...Where are the _biscuits_ already?"

"Just hang in there, B.B. And order all out!"

"Y-Yeah! Robin's paying...Isn't that right, Robin?"

"Erm..."

"Hehehehe!"

"...can't we do this Dutch?"

"Titan's East can handle it. We've got ourselves a pocketbook of our own!"

"¡No necesitamos mucho dinero para tenemos una noche magnifica!"

"¡Si, es verdad, Menos! Oye, Titanes...¡Gozamos de la cena!"

"Hehehehe...Verily, we shall be joyous in our blessings!"

"All I want are biscuits. Unless they serve a salad here that--like--hasn't been mixed with fish or mollusk or whatnot_--which I doubt!"_

"Shhh! You're ruining the moment, litlte man! I'm sure they have--I dunno--veggie stuff here..."

"Just give Beast Boy the lobster bib and have done with it."

"HEY!"

"Ha ha ha... ...Hey, I am ALL OVER this smoked salmon!"

"Grouper for me. Oooh! Who wants TROUT?"

"Hay muchos tipos de pescado...Es increible..."

"Take your time everyone. As long as TEN Titans are in the same building, I'm pretty sure Robin's and Bumble Bee's wallets are safe..."

"Heh, that's rich--Whoah, dude, we ARE ten Titans now, aren't we?"

"Uh..._Duh?"_

"Sorry, I guess I just count Mas and Menos as one person."

"Que va!"

"Hehehe...OOOH! The krill of the popcorn!"

"Shrimp."

"Huh?"

"That's popcorn _shrimp_, Starfire--"

"Aquatic animals are posessing of hardened kernals?"

"Nnngh... ...Cyborg, you take over for a second while I look through the appetizers."

"Nuh uh. She's _your_ alien, Robin."

"Hehehe!"

"Killer! They got beer--"

"AHEM!"

"...oh...Right. Miss Mouseketeer makes the rules now."

"You bet 'yo ass!"

"I swear to God, I'm sober everytime I carry the quiver--"

"BISCUITS! Thank god they're HERE!"

"Weeee!"

"I get seconds! _Seconds!"_

Hands reach across the table.

Fingers eagerly grab at the cheddar clumps littered aesthetically throughout the basket.

Smiles and chuckles and all the Norman Rockwell goodness of mutual franchise seafooding.

And I'm sitting here.

And I can't help but pause and blink...

Gazing around and gazing around and gazing around...

"... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ...where's Aqualad?"

"Rae! You gonna eat, girl, or is the Cheddar Bay nirvana gonna go to the rest of us?"

"I'm not hungry. Where's Aqualad?"

"Der... ...I dunno..."

"Oh, I think I saw him outside," Bumble Bee motions with her head.

I squint at her. "When, outside?"

"Uh... .. ...when we got here?"

"... .. ...," I stand up. "Excuse me... ...but I've got somewhere to go..."

"Ain't you hungry, Raven?"

"Eh...," I wave a hand at Cyborg. "Save me a salad..."

"Would not the 'herbal tea' suffice as well, dear friend?" Starfire asks in earnest.

I look at her. I manage a slight smile. "If the have it... ...sure..."

"Keep in contact, Raven," Robin drones.

I leave the table.

Walking...

Walking... ...

Walking... ... ...

I've exited the Red Lobster.

And...

Sure enough...

There he is.

Sitting, hunched over, on a bench bordering the parking lot.

Beyond, the highways and pavement sea of Steel City loom. There is a grayness to them that mimics the cloud hovering over his head.

By the sound of Aqualad's third sigh, I've crept over to his side.

"Oh.. ...h-hi, Raven...," he manages with an awkward smile.

"Salutations," I drone. I sit next to him. "You look... ... ..._dry_."

"You don't know the half of it...," he mutters.

"... ... ...should I know?"

He smiles tiredly. "Raven, really. You should be inside with the others... ...enjoying yourself."

"Enjoyment is something that... ..._is best written down_," I lower the hood from my head. Blue strands flutter in the breeze. "And I'm a long..._longggg_ way from cozying up to Coleridge in my warm reading chair."

"Heh... ...I wish I knew what that meant."

"And I wish I knew what was eating at you."

He glances at me from aside. "Wow, so suddenly compassionate, Raven?"

I merely stare at him.

"... ... .. ...," he sighs and stares down at his feet. "I just feel... ... ...like I'm at the entrance to a _death camp_."

"I'm sorry that your new teammates don't share your sentiment," I murmur.

"Why should you be?" Aqualad grumbles. "Why should anyone be _sorry_? This isn't my place. This is DRY LAND... ...where the blessed living things of fin and scale are treated like a meat harvest. Unnngh.. ...and there's so much CONCRETE! And INDUSTRY! Hardly a Poseidon-forsaken POOL or LAKE in _sight!_ I feel my skin crackling away already... ...my SKIN, Raven!"

"It must be hard for you..."

"Mmmf..I-I can't complain...," he sighs. "The Eastern Tower is built right into the Water. I have plenty of access to aquatics at our home base. And it really pays to be a member of such an outstanding team. So...I-I really am lucky. Just, with good luck comes some strange vibrations, do you know what I mean?"

"It's not the good time of year for tsunami analogies."

"Not that. Just.. ..._I wish I'd just get over it!"_

I narrow my eyes. "Get over _what_, Aqualad?"

"Well, wanting to strangle everyone inside this 'eatery' for munching on some very good friends of mine."

"How do you know they were once friends of yours?" I blink. "...the eaten fish, that is..."

"That's just it. I DON'T know. Ugh... ...I'm so pathetic. Forgive me, I'm really making a big deal out of nothing..."

"... ... ...," I look down at my feet. I suddenly realize that they're dangling just an inch above the ground. I blink at that... ...but think nothing further. "Aqualad..."

"Hmm?"

I tilt my head up and gaze at the gray-blue wane of evening. "When I first came here from Azar..._to this dimension_... .. ...I was astonished that so many people lived in...joy..."

Aqualad blinks. "... ...really?"

I nod. "The people of Azar--that is, the keepers of the Book of Azar and its teaching--are a melancholy people. They aren't _depressed_, but they are melancholy. For they have accepted reality for what it is. A losing battle with the fading energy of this universe. Joy is... ...not quite so prevalent in my home-dimension. Nonexistant, no, just not common."

"And when I came here.. ...and I met the Titans... ...I thought they were absolute morons. I was very much glad that they accepted me, but I couldn't understand their levity. I thought they were immature. And--well--in a lot of ways, they _are_..."

Aqualad slightly smirks at that.

"But I respect them now. It took a lot of time, but I respect them for who they are and the hope and _joy_ they show for life. It took me a while to realize that even the faculties of Azar are limited. Limited by scope and by potency when the spectrum of the world changes under its feet like a slippery carpet."

"You're saying that the culture of Atlantis means nothing here, huh?" Aqualad sighs. "...that I should just get over myself?"

I shake my head gently. "No. I'm just saying that the Atlantean life is simply that. The Atlantean life. You can expect it to help you throughout all your days... ..but you cannot expect it to prepare yourself for _all_ of the changes ahead. For all of the ridiculously wyrd things you may be coming across. This is a new world for you, Aqualad. And who you are is going to be as much about dealing with these sort of differences as it will be about falling back on your own precepts. Yes, the way these people eat fish and walk around on dry land is probably kinda... ...sickening to you. But in time, I think even you can learn to live with it. Cuz there's something to be had in shocking lifestyle if you can just turn the cheek every now and then and.. ..." My lip curves awkwardly. "... ..._count it all 'joy'_..."

"... ... ...," Aqualad takes a deep breath. He raises a finger: "But I don't have to _eat fish_, right?"

I drone: "I have yet to sit down for a single _hour_ of video gaming with Beast Boy."

"Heh... ...we all can manage to stay true to ourselves, huh?"

I nod. "And I really think you should talk to your new teammates about where your values lie. Or else they're going to start bringing your friends home in tacos."

"Ohhhhhh_hhhhhh_," Aqualad holds a hand over his gut and dramatically bends over.

I raise an eyebrow. "... ...Aqualad?"

"Nothing.. ...j-just... ...nothing..."

"... .. .. ...okay..."

"But, y-you're right, Raven...," he sits up. "Maybe--like--if I told them stories about my time with marine life.. ... ...they'd be a little less like barbarians for the Ocean's sake!"

"Uh... ...Yeah... ...something like that..."

"Hehe...I can tell them this one story! A story about a fish I met at the bottom of the Atlantic Trench!"

"Was it's name 'Wanda'?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing," I lean my chin on my hand and gently smile at him. "By all means... .. ..._go on..."_


	70. Gray

﻿

I wake up this morning with the sense that everything around me is dying.

I know that everything around me is dying.. ... ..and yet it is not a fear.

It is like a balloon filled with air and coming to the surface of the bathwater.

Sure, it doesn't help that when I say I woke up this 'morning', I really mean _two in the afternoon_.

For it is always _two in the afternoon_ when I wake up unattended... ...like the last backhanding slap of destiny punishing me for my laziness.

Then... ...it doesn't help either that today is a Sunday. A usual, gray.. ...neverending Sunday.

For Sundays are always gray.. ...

They last and they last and they last...

And I wonder if Sundays are a cosmic punishment for those of us who are too cursedly sharp to believe in a God. Or maybe Sundays are the daylight equivalent for a routine rehearsal for Death.

But it is only the birth of a new week in that it is also the death of the previous one.

I know this.. ...as do many others like or unlike me, I'm sure. And maybe that is what contributes to.. .. ...the grayness.

But there is more to it than that this day.

Neither the flickering 'Two P.M' on the clock or the sagging skies of Sunday from beyond the blinds...

There is something.. ...like the slimy aftertaste collecing in my throat with every wandering contemplation... ...

Like the concrete folds of my bedhseets.. ... ...weighted with the dusty air of inaction... ...

This room, this Tower, this City...

... ...it is so full of nothing.

These glass eyes of mine and what they think they see.. ...they see nothing...

Yes, there are lives that I save... ...

Yes, there are disasters that are averted.. .. ...

But to what end?

I know the doom that I bring and I know the reason for why Sunday, any day, any night lingers and dies in the corners of my spirit.

I try not to talk about it.

Azar knows, I try not to dwell on it.

But mornings like these.. ...

Gray days and dull afternoons like these...

It's like the world is one huge windbag deflating all around me.

It's not worth weeping for.

It's not worth complaining about.

It's just something that--on occasion--makes me wonder if someway, somehow, in some possible fasion.. ...

.. ... ...I could have made a prosperous, alternative turn sometime in the past.

Apart from being a hero.

Apart from being a Titan.

Apart from being in any semblance of a hazardous lifestyle...

...and instead, someplace safer.

But...

I know the current through which life flows into Styx.

The patterns of things to be and one day cease to be... ...

I am not alone in my realization, but I can be honest and say.. ...

I am a lot sharper.

I am a lot sharper.. ...but I do not want to brag.

I do not want the world to applaud me with soon-to-be meatless hands.

I'd rather.. ...

Stay right here.

Even with the door knocking...

And Beast Boy and Starfire calling for me.. ...

Asking for me to join them on a walk or a pizza run...

I want to stay right here...

Right here...

...but I get up...

And I shower...

And I get dressed...

And I walk out of my room...

And into the Main Room...

And the Titans see me...

And they smile...

And...

_"Friend Raven! You came to join us!"_

"Didn't think you were up to it, Rae!"

"Heh...Like, Lord knows you never tire from making love to your books all by yourself in your room!"

_"Stop trying to be funny, Beast Boy. Let me just get some tea and we'll be on our way..."_

"Heh...sure thing, dudette."

"Hey! Who's for ice cream aftewards?"

"One thing at a time, Cy..."

"Hehehehe!"

I sip.

I sigh.

I follow.

_The grayness isn't mine alone._

It isn't mine alone...


	71. Shop

﻿

"Here ya go, Raven! Here's the perfect pair of jeans to go with your blue jacket!"

"No."

"Terra has exceptional taste! Hehehe...Raven, would you not benefit from partaking in her flavor of garb?"

"No."

"Ooooh! Berets, Raven! You'd look _great_ with a beret!"

"No."

"_Come onnnnn,_ Raven! Work with us a little!"

"Heeeee! This skirt has your titleage plastered figuratively all over its surface area--!"

"Nnnngh!" I gently shove Starfire away. "Will you two _please_ just--...LEAVE me out of this?.?.?"

"Ohhhhh," Starfire mopes. "But what joy is there to be had if we are not mall-of-the-shopping together?"

"Face it, Star," Terra smirks and measures a blouse up to herself within the aisles of an air-conditioned department store. "Raven's just a spoil-sport. Through and through."

I adjust my robe and glare at her from under my blue hood. "And since when have _you_ been Miss 'Princess-Uses-Debit-A-Lot'?"

"Hehehe...," Terra smiles. "I can't help it. Starfire's girlishness is just _too contagious."_

"Heeeeeee!"

I drone under my breath: _"Or maybe you just enjoy being on the Titans' allowance..."_

"Ya know...," Terra winks and points a sly finger at me. "...You _really _should have ditched the robe-and-hood ensemble at the Tower, Raven. Somebody's going to pull you aside under suspicion of 'shoplifting' for sure."

"I'm a sorceress, not a Klepto...," I drone. "Besides..." I fold my arms and give her a contemptuous glare. "It's not like you disrobed out of your Titan's gear too."

"Oh, that'll happen soon," Terra grins wide and holds up two sweaters. "What do you think, Star? Pink...or _pinker?"_

"Ohhh, heavenly! Pursue the fuschia with great fervor! Fuschia fervor! Tee hee hee!"

"Nnnngh...," I run a hand over my face. _"I stand ashamed at the Temple of Athena..."_

"If you don't like it, Raven, Spencer's is just a few stores down," Terra motions with her head. "Nobody's stopping you!"

"Fanboys are stopping me..."

"Why, whatever do you mean, friend?"

"... .. ..well... .. ..y-you know...," I shrug. "... ..."

Terra and Starfire stare at me blankly.

A beat.

"Fanboys?" Terra raises an eyebrow.

"I-I have them...," shrug.

"Heh...," Terra smirks. "Fat chance."

"Hey, it's not something I'm proud of," I sigh. "The last time I so much attempted to use a park's water fountain on my own--"

"She was verily pounced!" Starfire grins. "Oh, is not this City's admiring populace just glorious?"

I pulse an artery in my forehead. "They were _all over me_, Starfire.. ..."

"Hahaha...," Terra laughs, hugging a pair of jean shorts to her chest. "S-Seriously?.?.?"

"It was endearing!" Starfire cups her hands to her cheeks.

I frown. "It was _smelly_. And if you wouldn't _mind_, I didn't come here to talk about traumatic moments with obsessive admirers..."

"Then just HOW did you manage to let us talk you into coming with us, Raven?" Terra smirks.

"... .. ... ...," I sigh. ".. .. ...Beast Boy was cooking, and every inch of the Tower smelled like tofu."

"Ohhhhhh," Starfire nods. "How honestly... ... ...honest..."

"To be honest...," Terra winces. "_That's... .. ...k-kinda sorta why I left the Tower to begin with too..."_

"Wow," I drone. "For once... ...something we have in common..."

Terra smirks. "Besides ovaries, of course?"

".. ... .. .." I say nothing.

Terra blinks...

"Friends!" Starfire hovers over between us, grinning. "You must accompany me to the perusing of lingerings!"

Terra makes a wyrd face. "_'Lingerings'?"_

"She means the Intimates Section,"I droningly explain.

"Eh heh heh heh...," Terra sweatdrops and waves a hand. "Maybe another time, Starfire..."

"Ohhhh," Starfire looks saddened... ...but immediately brightens. "Never worry! I shall go by my solitary! But fear not... ...if I find _the pantings_ to your liking, I shall verily choose them for you to save the hassle!" _Swooosh!_ And she's gone.

"Whew... ...," Terra manages a weak smile. ".. ...and to think... ...I once _knew_ friends who could get that excited over lingerie shopping before.. .. ..heh..._hardly 'alien'_..."

"... .. ...," I glance over at her. "Your friends?"

"... .. .. ...," Terra deflates with a sigh and rummages through a stack of jeans, looking away from me. "_That was long ago."_

I bite my tongue.

For an awkward set of seconds... ... ...I just stand there...

I just stand there while Terra shops, shops, shops...

"Hehe...now these are _cute_...," she holds up a pair of ankle pants with sunflowers embroidered into the denim at random spots. "Wouldn't Beast Boy just _love_ me in these?"

"... ... ...uhh...," I shrug. "I guess..."

"I bet he would," Terra smiles warmly to herself. She pushes back a lock of blonde hair and searches through other sizes. "Mmmm...ya know, he's into those really girly, 'Sunday-Church Buffet Special' look or what have you..."

"... ... ... ...," I stare at her. "... .. .. ... ..." I open my mouth. "Terra, honestly, what do you--"

"--see in him?"

"He makes me laugh."

"It isn't simple as that...," I murmur. "Beast Boy--_you have to understand_--he's more than just a joker..."

"And how would YOU know this...?" she winks mischievously.

I resist the urge to frown. "Beast Boy is... ...very _needy_..."

"Uh huh...," she stares at a pile of sweaters.

"... ...he gives so much because he wants so much. In the way of attention."

"Mmmhmmm...," she rummages through some sandals.

"... ... ...and he likes to eat baby fetuses with chopsticks..."

"Uh huh..."

I groan. "Terra, are you listening to what I'm saying?"

"Why are you even _telling me_ what you're saying?"

"Because--"

"You want to look out after me?" she smirks. "Wow...didn't know you _cared_..."

"... ... ...I... ...I don't want you to hurt him."

"... .. ...I don't want you to hurt Beast Boy..."

She looks at me. She softly murmurs: "Raven, I don't want to hurt him either..." She gulps. "What makes you think that--"

"I know you don't want to hurt him... ...but when you give into his attention, please..._please_ just know...just _acknowledge_ the fact that if you go **anywhere** with him in terms of... ...of _being close_, you'll have to expect going in for the long haul."

"Heh...," Terra plants her hands on her hips and smirks. "Raven, it's _boys_ who are afraid to commit! Where were you when the grand Book of the Sexes was being written?"

"I don't think in terms of sexes..."

She blinks. "Whoah--_What?"_

I raise a hand. "J-Just listen to me..."

Finally, she does...

I sigh and manage: "You're here with the Titans for many reasons, Terra. Your powers are remarkably useful. You're a very self-assured and flexible person. You know how to bounce back and take care of yourself. But.. ...when we go back in time and look at things--_I mean really look at things closely_... ..." I narrow my eyes and nod. "It was Beast Boy who made you staying at our Tower possible."

Terra bites her lip and gazes aside...

"Yes, Starfire and Cyborg were excited to invite you over for a place to stay as well," I continue. "... ...but Beast Boy truly, _truly_ pushed for your initiation. Fate would have it that a misunderstanding nearly put you two at odds--"

_"Y-Yeah...,"_ Terra shudders at the thought...

"--but he's... ...Beast Boy has _changed_ a lot, Terra. And he's changed _for you_."

She blinks. "F-For me?"

I nod. "He's more of a team player. He fights and struggles harder. He's focused, agile, concentrated.. .. ... ..he's become a true hero. Something to be admired and trusted. And he does it now because--for once--he has something to believe in, Terra. After so much compensation and loss in his life, he has something to fight for."

I lean forward.

"It's _you_, Terra. Your his hope. And it'll take more than just dressing nicely or making jokes or playing stinkball to be there for him as he's fought to be there for you. If you respect him at all.. ...and _desire_ anything for the two of you.. .. ...you'll have to be very.. ...very... ..._very_ careful..."

"...y-yeah..."

"Do you understand me?"

"I...," she bites her lip and squeaks out with a nervous smile. "_I'll do my 'best'... ..."_

"... .. ...," I lean back and take a breath. "S-Sorry... ...uhm..._Mother Hen mode kicked in..."_

"Hehehe...No, thank you...Really," she nods. "Wow..._You really are protective of Beast Boy, aren't you?"_

I rummage suddenly through a few skirts. "I'm protective of all the Titans..."

"Really?"

"Yes, believe it or not."

"Including me?"

"... ... ..do you even need to ask?"

"Hehe...," Terra winks. "What if _maybe I do?"_

Thwump!

She awkwardly catches at skirt that I toss her.

"Try that on for looks...," I drone.

"Uh...R-Raven?" Terra sweatdrops and stretches out the waistline of the article with an awkward rise of the eyebrow. "This is.. ..a t-tad bit too big for me..."

"You're a twig. For Azar's sake, eat...work out...and you'll grow into them."

"But seriously! I can't possibly--"

I hover above her. My eyes flicker in four red spots as I hiss and warble: **_"YoU'lL gRoW iNtO tHeM!.!.!.!.!.!"_**

Darkness.

Flickering lights.

Frost in the air.

A wide-eyed Terra blinks...nods shakily...and hurries off to a changing room with the skirt.

"R-Right! Yes! I-I-I'll grow into them! _I'll grow into them!"_

"... ... .. ...," I hover back down to my feet and take a calming breath...

_Swooosh!_

Starfire flies back. "Friend! I must inquire of you.. .. ..am I fit for a G-String? Or would it not be more appropriate for me to attempt sizing myself into an H-String or an F-String?"

"Just do pajamas, Starfire..."

"Oh?"

"Trust me..."

"Oh, merrily-merrily thank you, friend! Heeee!" _Thwooosh!_

I take a calm breath and hold up a pair of denim leggings.

"... .. .. ...I want these overalls..."


	72. Mud

﻿

I choke.

I gag.

I break the surface.

The air is cold.

My skin is numb.

I cannot tell exactly how many places she cut me.

Or if she cut me at all...

I weigh a ton.

My body is dragging filth.

Up from the depths I rise...

Hacking...

Spitting...

Gasping for air, only to inhale globs of muck.

I choke and sputter.

I'm rolling... ...rolling...

Out from the river and onto cold, dry rock.

I am underground somewhere.

Frozen and barren...

But the soonest I try to open my eyes, my eyelids refuse for they are crusted shut with moist earth.

I grab at my robe.

It's choking me.. ...caught on concrete clumps and weighted around my neck.

I claw at my throat.

Sand and grit cake my teeth.

Gasping... ...Gasping.. ...Gasping...

_You know, Raven, I never liked you._

I grab at the muddied cloak.

I rip it from my neck.

I seethe and heave.

There's a crackling sound under bubbling liquid.

The frenzied squawks of my communicator...

Voices... ..Crying, Gasping, Horrified voices...

_You let me live in your house and steal all your secrets._

As soon as I have my neck freed, my esophagus expands.

And the mud travels out.

I heave and wretch.

I roll over onto all fours.

I throw my head back.. ... ...and back down.

I vomit.

I vomit.

The mud.

The brown filth.

Streams and ropes and buckets of it.

_You're not getting mad, are you, Rae? Oh, better be careful, Beast Boy told me all about your temper tantrums._

I gasp... ..inhale... ...quiver... ...shake.. ... ..heave...

And vomit.

Hacking...

Joining blood with the mud.

Until..

I collapse.

I fall down and splash the puddle of filth from my own innards.

And yet more strings of the brown mess is clumping off my hair and joining the warm discharge.

I quiver all over.

Sputtering.

Forcing my eyes open.

Tearing...Tearing...

Shivering all over...

_Come on, Raven... ...What stings the most?_

The communicator squawks.

I hear Starfire shrieking.

Robin is screaming her name.

Cyborg is letting out a cry of horror.

And Beast Boy is begging for mercy...

_That I tricked you? That I nearly wiped out your team?_

I try grabbing for the communicator.

It slips from my grasp.

My fingers shake before me.. .. ..strange bones in somebody else's closet...

Wrapped in the darkness and...

It's a darkness that feels uncomfortable for the first time in my life.

I clench my teeth.

My dirtied face contorts.

My feet dangle and splash in the muddy river running beside me...

_Or is it that deep down inside, you really believed I was your friend?_

A flash...

A flash of **FOUR EYES!**

"!.!.!.!" I gasp and slap my palms over my forehead.

My mouth is wide.

Twisted in horror.

I slowly ... ...shakily lower my hands.

I looked at my wretched blood.

And are they there?

Are they on fire?

Are they bleeding?

I don't know anymore.

I just don't know anymore...

The voices of my friends are fading on the communicator.

It shorts out.

And I know they can't hear me.

But I crawl towards the sparkling device regardless.

As her voice travels on the foul breath of my father.

Like a distant laugh.

Burning forever in a halo around my chakra stone.

_Who's in control now?_

"T-Titans..." I sputter and hiss.

I crawl towards the communicator.

I quiver...

I collapse in a muddy heap.

I shiver and curl up in a fetal position.

And I feel something stabbingly cold against my cheeks.

Two streams of iced insides... ...rivering out and turning the mud on my face to silver plates.

".. .. ...T-Titans.. .. ..p-please..."

I choke.

I hug myself, cough, and clench what's left of my eyes shut.

".. .. .. ...f-find me.. ... ..."

I am... ...crying...

I am crying so hard.. ...

And I cannot stop.

".. .. ...please f-find m-m-me... ..."

Dead and defeated.. .. ...I shiver there for as long as consciousness allows.

I will never forget this.

Never.


	73. Post

_lolz...no_

_move on_


	74. Grit

﻿

"I'm tellin' ya, I was made for picnics, dude! A Beast Boy is a boy of the wilderness! No—Better yet, of the dusty plains and wide-open fields of America! HA! That's where it's at, man! I've got grit!"

"… … ….," I end my long sip of tea and look up from the picnic tabletop with a slight curve to my lips. "Excuse me?"

"Say What?.?" Cyborg tilts his head over from where he's grilling baby-back-ribs. "Lil man, what in god's name are you rambling about?"

"Hehehe….I'm having fun just listening to him," Terra smiles softly.

"You would," I drone.

She sticks her tongue out at me before giggling.

"I mean it!" Beast Boy dramatically leans back and kicks his feet up onto the picnic table in 'cowboy' fashion. "I've got grit! If I wanted to be a rough rider, I could be!"

"Hehehe….says _who_?" Terra smirks.

"Says me! I've _been_ a bucking bronco! I should sure as fluff know how to ride myself!---Er…. …Okay, th-that didn't sound very good…."

"Beast Boy….," Robin grumbles, trying to control the flaming artery in his upper forehead. "…feet off the table—"

"Dude! Cy's still makin' half the food, and it's not like my feet are dirty—"

"Didn't you turn into a pig along the way here?"

"Pigs are a lot cleaner than you think, man!"

I sip again. "Try convincing people that on Shabat…."

"Please… …," Starfire leans forward with pleading eyes. The wind of the City Park kicks her red follicles into a slight flutter befitting her curious optics. "Do tell me, what is this 'grit'?"

Robin yawns and leans back in his seat, arms folded. "It's an excuse for people in modern times to continue smoking, spitting, and maintaining that every Civil War battlefield have at least _two_ names."

"Oh please, Robin," Terra rolls her blue optics. "What do _you_ know about being Southern? You're the metaphoric son to a butt-kicking man in a _batsuit._"

"Would you know any more than I have?" Robin yawns again. "The most you and I have ever done then has been sleeping in caves."

"Heh….," Terra smirks. "Touche."

"I'm serious, dudes," Beast Boy plucks a random toothpick out from the center of the table arrangements and chews on it stylishly through the side of his jaw. "All I need is to order some boots and chaps from a magazine and call it a sunset!"

"You do realize most boots and 'chaps' are made of _leather_, right?" I remark.

"EEP!" Beast Boy falls back onto the ground. _Thwomp!_ "KAFF!—Nngh….How could I be so stupid? Stupid-Stupid-Stupid-Stupid?"

"It boggles the mind…," Cyborg rolls his eyes as he bastes the ribs in BBQ sauce.

"BB!" Terra hops down on the ground and kneels besides the green elf's collapse figure. "Are you all right?"

"(Sniff)—Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"… …Beast Boy, are you crying?"

"(Sniff) Huh? What?"

"I said, are you—"

"Jeez! No, Terra! Why on earth would I be crying from a silly little fall? (Sniff) Cowboys don't (sniff) cry!"

"Awwwww, you _ARE_ crying!"

"I am not!"

"C'Meeeeere!"

"Dah! I don't need a hug! Darn it, I'm not crying! Robin! Tell Terra that cowboys don't cry!"

"Too… …much… … …sun… …in eyes…. .. … …feeling…sleepy…"

"Dang it, Robin! Songbirds like the sun!"

"And cowboys don't cryyyyy," Terra cuddles the green elf below the picnic table's benches.

I shake my head. I hold the teacup and take a breath as the wind and the sun and—

"Hey Rae…."

"Hmm?" I turn and glance up.

Cyborg is dishing out plates of baby-back-ribs. He even has an apron, _for the love of Azar—_ "I just wanna say, it's nice having you join us for once."

I shrug. "For once in an eon, I was bored at the Tower."

"I swear…," Cyborg winks with a smirk and silently confesses to my side of the table alone. "Ever since Terra's joined us.. … …everyone's been a whole lot more cheerful. Especially you."

"Heh…."

"Dare I say I almost saw you _smiling_ a minute ago?"

I swallow. I shift about in my seat….and finally decide on a nonchalant: "So what? I……'ve got grit."

"….heh….really now….YOU, Raven?"

"Well….," I shrug. "More than Beast Boy will ever have in this life at least."

"Hah hah hah!"

I hide my curved lips in the last empty recesses of my teacup.

"_Hey! What're you two laughing about up there?"_

"_None of your business, buckaroo! Ha ha ha!"_

"Ugh…. …Pass the tofu ribs, Terra."

"Reach for the skyyy!"

"…_.Huh? What are you talking ab—DAH! HEHEHE! STOP TICKLING ME!"_

"_Hehehehe! Make me!"_

"Vamoose ya little varmit! You here me—Whoaaaah!"

"Egawds…hahahaha…."

"_Heeeee! Picnics are glorious! Are they not, Robin?… .. … …Robin?…. … .. .. ….R-Robin?"_

"Zzzzzzzzzzzz….."


	75. Pow

﻿

_**ZAP!**_

**_Z-ZAP!_**

"Raven!" Robin shouts as he leaps across the hallway of the H.I.V.E. underwater layer with batarangs flying. "They're going to blow the walkway!"

As Starfire tosses a screaming flurry of starbolts into a sea of thugs besides me, I spin about in mid-shielding to see beyond my obsidian translucent soul self the source of Robin's concern. A squadron of yellow-suited H.I.V.E. thugs are attaching plastiq explosions to the one hallway leading towards our destination in the evil HQ's control room.

"Don't let them cut us off! Cyborg, Aqualad, and Beast Boy are counting on us!"

I gnash my teeth amidst laser fire and explosions. "I'm on it…."

_"Get her!"_ a lead thug motions at me with a gloved finger.

"_Yaaaaaugh!"_ half a dozen crooks run my way with laser rifles armed.

"Nnnngh!" I fling both of my hands forward.

_Fwooosh!_ A blast of black telekinesis soars at their feet, collapsing all but one instantly. "Oooof!" _THWUMP!_

The one thug is leaping over the black sweep and firing at me with twin barrels of laser fury.

**_ZAAAP!_**

I hold my breath and cross my fingers in front of me, forming a tiny, translucent shield. **CRACK!** The laser blast explodes into the dark barrier. I furrow my brow in concentration as I flex my fingers and wrap-around the burning laser impact with the spherical body of the black shielding. I then levitate the fire-filled black ball in my palm before blowing on it like a dandelion—

**SHOOOOOM!** The black orb flies into the ground a few feet from the one thug and explodes like an incendiary grenade with his own laser fire.

**POW!**

"Ugh!" He slams up against a glass wall looking out onto the watery landscape.

Fire and flame clog up the corridor.

I hold my breath, encase my entire body in black magic, and bolt forward with spreading wings of avarian energy. A demonic shriek echoes through the corridor as I burst through the murk and come sailing in with a graceful glide, my blue robe billowing against the blackness.

The recovering thugs have barely stumbled up to their feet when they see me and gasp.

I land between them and strike a meditative pose.

They all aim and fire with one mutual berserker yell.

"Yaaaugh!"

"Dieeee!"

"Fry, you witch!"

I hold my breath, twirl gracefully to the side, avoid the fire, close my eyes, blindly duck another barrage, then open my optics with a hot gray glow before flexing my calmly poised fingers forward in an exploding array of dark fury.

**_FWOOOOOSH!_**

Ribbons of solid black magic bolt out and slice off the barrels of every thug's weapon.

They stumble back, gasping.

I march forward, frowning.

The two closest thugs growl and charge at me, swinging electric-daggers. _ZZZT! Z-ZZT!_

I bend backwards, duck a slicing splash of metal and electricity sweeping over my angled nose—and then I come up with a twirl and grasping the man by the forehead and covering his cranium with suffocating black. _FLASH!_

"Mmmmmmfff!"

"Sonuva---!" The second thug leaps at me with a stabbing electric-dagger--

I flick my other wrist towards him and explode the knife in his grasp. **_CRACK!_**

"Augh!" He grabs his hand and winces all over.

I then spin in place like a dancer and—_eyes closed with concentration_—fling the breathless thug by his head into the second assailant.

_Swooooosh!_—"Waaaaaaaaaaah!'_—THUD!_ Both men collapse like slabs of meat into the ground.

I come to a stop from my spin and half-kneel.

Just in time too—_ZAAP! **ZAAAP!**_—two bolts of laser fury surge over my head from the last three blocking me from the explosives.

I fling my wrists to opposite sides while squatting. With a rattling sensation, two metal hexagon panels rip out of the walls and soar—on my command—towards the itchy trigger miscreants.

_SWOOOOSH!_

"Wh-Whoah!" Two duck. A third isn't too lucky—

**WHANG!**

"Ooof!" He falls down hard.

The other two men blink, then gasp—

_SWOOOSH!_ I glide towards them menacingly with hot gray eyes and black tracers fluctuating alongside me.

They raise the intensity on their laser rifles with a whining noise and fire—**ZAP! ZAP! Z-ZAP!**

I leap up into a drifting levitation, sailing above the rifle fire.

They sweat, pant, and aim up at me. **_ZAAAAAP!_**

I cross my arms before my chest, summoning a thick wall of blackness as I descend… ..descend… … …descend….

**_Z-Z-Z-ZAAAP!_**

Everything splashes and explodes off my angled shield.

I drift and drift until—

Finally…

I land between the two men.

I kneel down.

I uncross my arms.

The black shield splits into two raging talons of onyx.

"Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!"

**_GRIP!_**

**_  
CLUTCH!_**

Both men scream as the black talons seize them by their midsections.

I toss them both up and behind me as I stand up with a simple **shrug** of my shoulders.

"Daaaaaah!'

"Yaaaaaaugh---" THUD!

TH-THUD!

Both men collapse like dull ragdolls in the smoking corridor behind me.

"… … ….." I march forward.

The men arming the explosives look up, see me, and gasp.

I raise a hand and—in a sweeping 'salute'—knock them all aside with billowing black.

Th-Th-Th-Thrump!

"Ooof!"

"Ooomph!"

I erect a black shield to hold them back.

I squat before the explosives.

My violet eyes narrow.

_0:07…_

_0:06…_

_0:05…_

**Grip!**

I grab the plastiqs.

I glance to my side.

Windows into the ocean… …

_0:04…_

_0:03…_

**FLASH!**

I encase the explosives in solid black talons.

Holding my breath, I shove my soul-self's upper limb through the glass fixture and extend the talon out and into the waters.. .. …'tossing' the explosives away and into the blue, liquid yonder like torpedos.

_0:02.. …_

_0:01…_

I draw my hand back, dissipate the black 'talon'….and brace myself against the wall—

**_KABOOOO-OOOOOM!.!.!.!_**

"Nnnnngh!" I grunt and stumble and fall—

_SWOOOOSH!_ Starfire zooms by, sweeping me up before I can collapse. "Do hold onto your derriere, friend Raven!"

She carries me out of the corridor as Robin follows behind, spins, and tosses a handful of smoke pellets at the nearly **_fifty_** pursuing thugs coming after us.

He turns and catches up with us, running as fast as his lungs can assist him.

"Good one, Raven! You deserve a reward for saving us from a drowning death!"

"Yeah…," I nod with my forehead pulsing. "You can start by telling your girlfriend to let me down."

_"Eeep!"_

Robin's face is a little red. _From fighting? Adrenaline? Something else?_

"Now's not the time for insinuations, Raven."

"Yeah? Why not?"

**_ZAP! Z-ZAP! ZAAAAAAP!_**

"Oh… ….Right…."


	76. Roth

﻿

"I am worried about him, Raven.. …."

I sigh. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, clutching hard to the edges of my book and trying to calm my nerves within the aura of the sentimental alien girl before replying: "Starfire, you are **always**…. …**always**… … ….**always** worrying about Robin."

She cranes her neck to look at me from where we sit more-or-less side by side along the Titan's Tower rooftop at midday. "Do you wish to imply that that is a bad thing?"

"Starfire, does it ever concern you that maybe you _obsess_ over Robin?"

"On my planet, there is no solid translation of this word called 'obsession' which you.. .. ..which you…. . .. …wh-which you—"

"… …_Obsess_ over?"

"Hehehe… …Indeed…."

I flip a page and drone. "So I take it that everyone on Tamaran experiences love as a mad, stalking crush?"

"No, everyone on my planet enjoys a reciprocality of truth, commitment, and _trust_!"

My lips helplessly curve to some extent. I speak to Starfire without looking at her: "Starfire, as dreamy as the things you are _used to_ are, here on Earth boys don't exactly.. .. …'frolic' into the arms of an admiring female."

"Then how is it that they find true joy?.?.?" She gasps.

"Snkkt—I don't know, Starfire. Boys are just.. … …are just boys.. …" I gaze at the pages again and murmur: "And while we're at it, girls of Terra Firma aren't all that easy-to-get either."

"And as such, the boys are similarly apt to distance themselves from significant others?"

"Boys are just _distant_. And it's best they stay that way, in all honesty. The world smells a bit better day by day… …."

"Ohhhh.. … …But I do dearly suspect that there is more that juxtaposes the optics when it comes to Robin."

"'More than meets the eye'?"

"Exactly."

"Starfire, Robin is… …is.. …," I wave my finger as I fumble to roll off my tongue: "He's different,_ ye_s, but nothing to worry about. I assure you."

"You kn-know this?" She asks, hands cupped together.

"I _sense_ it. Robin has not revealed his secrets to me. Nor do I desire to exploit them. But I trust that—whatever they are—they are pertinent to Robin and Robin alone. Whatever reasons Robin has for concealing the richer facts about himself, they are most certainly trivial and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. In short, stop worrying over him when he takes leaves of action like this."

'Wh-Why, whatever do you mean, Raven?"

I glance aside at her. "That _is_ what you're being eaten up about, isn't it?" I drone. "That Robin has left for his 'home away from home' again? His other life? Whatever it is that constitutes Batman's protégé, the Boy Wonder?"

Starfire hugs her knees to her chest and gazes sadly off into the horizon with a sigh: "Do you suppose that he hates us?"

"Nnnngh.. …Starfire.. .. …," I flip a page and sink back into my book. _"Cut my heart open and eat it out already.. …."_

"But I am most exceedingly serious!"

"I know. That's what doubly annoys me."

"What if it is because of some animosity that he treats us with such apathy?"

"Starfire.. .. …if Robin treated us with 'apathy', he wouldn't be nearly _half_ the supportive team leader that he is to us. And—furthermore—he wouldn't be nearly as close of a friend to you." I look at her. "Maybe you should start considering whether or not it's all a matter of Robin being _apathetic_ as it is a matter of him not living up to your standards… …"

Starfire gulps. She murmurs: "It is not so disastrously superficial as that, is it?"

"It never has to be, Starfire. It never has to be."

Silence… .. …

Starfire buries her face into her knees. A sigh. Her muffled voice mopes: "I only wish he could be more willing to show his _trust_ in us.. .. .."

"Everyone has their boundaries, Starfire. Especially here on Earth—where everyone is more prone to reclusion and individualism—_at least in the Western Hemisphere_."

"Truly.. …"

"Robin likes to wear a mask and 'go home' from time to time.. … ..," I flip a page as an artery in my temple pulses for the slightest second. ".. … ..and I like to _read my books all by myself **from time to time**_."

Starfire winces. "I am sorry, dearest Raven. Do you truly wish to be alone?"

I wince—

_Dear Azar… …_

I swear.. … …

Everytime she uses that 'dearest'… ….

"Ugh… …do **whatever**, Starfire," I mutter. "I've grown use to reading by any sort of light. Candle-light or chatter-light. It doesn't matter."

Starfire nods with a certain shroud of silence that almost scares me.

The deadpan seconds tick away.

I start to wonder if I'm actually reading anything at all. For a matter of fact, I wonder if I've _ever_ read anything at all since the day I first came to this dimension and housed myself with these meta-friends… .. …

"I wonder what color his eyes is… … …"

I glance above the 'blank' pages of my book. "Hmm?"

"His eyes… … ..their color beneath the mask.. … …" Her voice is drunken, but her smile isn't. She hasn't got one. "I have often envisioned a rich _brown_, like so many other Terran males on this planet."

"Hrmmm.. … ..," I shrug and flip a page. "Anything is possible.. …. .."

"Or what his name is… …," she murmurs. "A name befitting someone as special as him. Something mighty and yet humble… … …" She glances my way. "Gabriel!"

I do a double-take. "Uhmm … …huh?"

"Is that not a common name?"

"Erm.. ….well, I guess so—"

"Following Mohammed?"

"Well, yes, that goes without saying.. …," my lips curve somewhat. "But somehow I sincerely doubt that Robin is a 'Mohammed'."

"Oh?"

"Yeah… …," I shake my bangs loose in the Tower-top's wind. "He strikes me more as a 'Paul' or a 'John' or—_Azar above_—perhaps even an 'Isaac'."

"We are all in possession of truer names that define us further than our iconography allows, correct?" Starfire smiles. "Beast Boy has eluded to himself as Garfield—"

"Quite hilariously, for once.. …"

"I believe Cyborg has stated that he is 'Victor'. I am 'Koriand'r'.. … ….And by what definition may Robin's true name serve?"

"… … … …," I suddenly find myself gazing slowly, quietly towards the naked air beyond the edge of the Tower. The book feels like a distant thing in my naked fingers. I drift… …drift… …

"In truth, I have fond the name 'Robin' itself somewhat endearing.. .. ..hehehe… …for it serves both masculine _and feminine_ connotation, does it not? And for someone who displays so much of the Terran machismo as Robin, the duality of his title must be an infrequent, antithetical deterrent to his courageous psyche, is it not? Hehehehe.. …at least in Terran terms, of course.. …."

".. … …. ….Raven?"

"**Roth**."

Starfire's alien eyebrow raises. "I beg of your pardon?"

I open my mouth again—pause.. … ..shift uncomfortably, bite my lip, and squeak forth a "Roth" again.

"….. .. ….," Starfire stares at me.

I half-look at her, fidgeting. "It… …. …It is my last name.. …"

Starfire slowly gasps, smiling wide. "Oh Raven, is it truly?"

".. … ..well… .. ..it's my mother's _maiden name_.. .. .And Azar forbid I should ever grow up to take on--…. …well, _you know_…."

Starfire takes a deep breath. She nods. "Yes, truly."

I close the book and run a hand through my stubborn blue strands. The wind kicks them back. I sigh in defeat. "Yeah… .. …_Roth_… …"

"Dearest Raven… …," Starfire leans her head to the side. "Have you ever endeavored to procure a first name?"

"I have a first name," I murmur. "It's _'Raven'_."

"But—I mean to refer to a name that exists outside of the boundaries of the meditative practices you were indoctrinated into."

"Does there exist one?"

"No."

Starfire slowly nods. "I understand—"

"But… …," I bite my lip again. "I… …I-I.. … …"

She looks at me gently. Patiently. An inviting look in her sweet, green eyes of friendship.

My cheeks betray a slight red as I murmur: "I-I've always.. .. …s-somewhat taken a liking to 'Rachel'.. … …"

Starfire.. ….smiles. "That is a sweet, most deserving name, Raven…"

I rub the back of my neck with pale fingers and stammer: "Is it r-really… …?"

"Hehehehe… …," she leans over and gives me a light hug. I do not resist. "Yes, it truly is. And I am happy to see you coming to such a self-reference."

I blink. ".. .. …wh-why?"

"Because… …it thills me to witness any instance of your willingness to acknowledge your own existence."

I give her a bored glance in response to that and murmur: "It's not acknowledging _my_ existence that I have a problem with, Star—"

"Yes! It is **ours!**"

"Ugh…."

"Hehehehehehe!"

I roll my violet eyes. "At least I got you to stop obsessing over Robin."

"Hehehe… …," she winks. "Indeed you have, _Rachel_…. …"

I blush ever so slightly again. A warm breath. "Whatever you say, _Koriand'r_…."

"Hehehehe…," she giggles to myself.

And I… … …to myself.


	77. Watch

﻿

He sits on the grass in the shady edge of the park.

Like he always does.

He always does this time of day.

His mop of black hair splashes over his brow.

A single, bored eye bravely exposes itself to the blinding world.

As he sits there and scribbles… …scribbles…..

Scribbles into a notepad.

And I wonder… ..Poetry? Artistry?

Is he a cavalier or a craftsman?

_Ben Jonson or Raphael?_

He twirls a pen in his grasp.

He sighs a long breath while everything around him is alive and flowing.

He's like the dark nucleus to a drying-out sun.

So central and yet so antithetical.

Mothers and their children squawk and skip their way past him.

A Frisbee and a dog streaks by.

Bicyclists and joggers galore….

_Does this hyperactive world disgust him?_

Is he living life as a stone to protest or simply survive?

Does his existence suggest disdain or desire for something untold?

He pauses between bouts of inspiration.

He rests the notepad in his lap.

He leans back with his darkly-shadowed eyes shut.

Perhaps absorbing the sun… …perhaps expelling his own demons.

He's dressed all in black, a creature of obsidian.

Ever clad in that ridiculous t-shirt.

The cartoonish ghoul in the center.

The short sleeves.

The pale…._pale…. …**pale**_ skin.

Is he sick?

Is that why he lies around a lot?

Was fate cruel to him.. …..as well?

He reopens his eyes.

The wind flutters at his dark hair.

He sees it and yet he doesn't see it.

It's past noon.

He gets up, slowly.

He pockets the notepad away.

He stretches, brushes the leaves and grass blades off of him…

And…._as expected_…he turns northward.

And he heads towards the first thing he always heads to at this point of his daily routine.

A local water fountain.

He walks up to it.

He grasps the faucet release.

He leans over to drink.

_Always thirsty._

Always…..

But he pauses.

Blinking his dark eyes.

For there is something hanging off the faucet.

Tied to a black ribbon.

A note.

_Is it garbage to him?_

Like everything else in this world that he ignores?

Like everything else that he is seemingly impervious to?

But he reaches for it.

He 'unhooks' it.

He unfolds the note.

Gazing at it, he stands in silence.

… … …_. …_

He blinks… …and blinks again….

And something happens that is unexpected.

His pale cheeks turn the slightest red.

He instantly spins and looks around and around…

An action that is almost a little too sudden for someone like him.

And yet he looks… …and he looks.. ….

And sees nothing…

_Is he surprised?_

Is he frightened?

He need not be frightened.. … …

He bites his lip.

His finger rubs along the note.

He swiftly pockets it, takes a breath, and fights to remain deadpan.

And _miserable_ looking.

He fights….

Walking away.

Walking.. ….walking.. … ..and walking out of view.

I take a deep breath.

I stand up from the park bench where I have been sitting for the past half-an-hour.

I draw the hood of my robe over my head.

I hide in the shadows, gazing at the spot where the pressed grass blades start slowly to rise.

There is a joy to be had in indecision.

_A joy to be had in standing along the precipice before the desolated wasteland of Choice._

And just stare in awe at the glittering telos on the other side……

But without touching it.

Without touching it… … …

I turn around and—without saying a word—teleport myself away from the park in a cloud of black vapor.

Gone.


	78. Minx

﻿

"So, the bottom line in Western Philosophy can essentially be summed up in Friedrich Nietzsche's esteemed declaration: 'God is dead'. For every theological ideology that has served to solace the finite comprehension of humanity prior to the last century and a half has been nothing more than a grand, illusory narrative indoctrinizing culture so as to accept absurd notions in spite of the fact that their only teleological value subconsciously supports only the elite minority while robbing the impoverished majority of their spirit of acquisition for taking share of the world's bountiful yet exploited resources. And--let me tell you--there is no _worse sin_ than convincing two and a half millennia of overpopulated ignoramusi the NeoPlatonic-Judeo-Christian dogma that _transcendence_ is superior to _temporal immediacy_, hence forcing people to forego their existence for the sake of a socially-contrived essence. Marx and Engels are the _only_ 'saints' whose words matter in all practicality on this fractured earth--and other than that, nihilism is certainly the only fundamental school of anti-thought that serves any psuedo-purpose in this baseless existence we have all mutually accident'd into."

"... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...you are so completely and utterly full of it..."

"Der--H-Huh?"

"Granted, Nietzschean writings may support an air of blatant nihilism in a historical perspective of western society, but to call our present philosophical era nihilistic and yet simultaneously label Nietzsche as a grand supporter of such a declaration is fallacious. Friedrich Nietzsche intended from the beginning to induce a science... ...a 'Gay Science' that would not compartmentalize human beings into a new ideology of idealistic oblivion--for wouldn't any conceptual ideology mutually accepted by the 'yet undefined animals' essentially _define them_ as slaves to a philosophical '**herd**' inescapably identical to the religious, superstitious, and sectarian dogmas that Nietzsche so infamously blasphemes in his writing? The German philosophe's goal was to inspire humankind to break free of their fetters of 'herd instinct' and embark upon a new horizon of individual thought where the pursuit of knowledge was free, subjective, and open to new questions and criticisms never conceived of before. Nietzsche never had an 'answer' for the human race, just an optimistic impulse towards a human experience as opposed to a ritualistically-imposed _divine_experience. And while Nietzsche had a lot of intelligent commentaries to make on the historical spectrum of western philosophical thought, I fail to see how he can account for the microcosmic totality of the individual's finite relation to the infinite. Yes, perhaps God _is_ dead. But He is only the God that humanity has constructed, and since humanity is mortal--that is why the God they created managed to perish. Who's to say that the now-dead God that was once the symbolic ruler of the European Cosmos wasn't a construct to represent something that primordial western humans had truly related to?"

"You're saying that there is a Divine Entity that exists _above_ the definition that Nietzsche maintains has been murdered? Perhaps a Sacred Feminine that the patriarchal manifesto of two and a half millennia has repressed?"

"I mean to say that there is certainly an infinite 'Other' for us to take into account. But such cannot be related to on a massive scale--hence I am willing to support Nietzsche's total disregard for sectarian theology and _theocracy_. But rather, the subjectivity that Nietzsche advocates is the very same foundation upon which each of us can and must ultimately use as we encounter experiences and epiphanies of inexplicably mystical nature that can only lead towards a personal conviction towards the nature of existence. Never once does Nietzsche mention the humble writings of Soren Kierkegaard, and I think such is most unfortunate, for Kierkegaard quite urgently maintains that--even within the spectrum of a religiously-defined universal ethical--one must inevitably transcend moralistic standards on the grounds of his or her relationship with the Absolute. For Kierkegaard, this 'Absolute' essentially means God. But I think we can take Kierkegaard's idea into a broader field, especially if we focus on the fact that--in any experience of personally religious or mystical nature--it is by _virtue of the absurd_ that we find an answer that can and **must** be superior to any human, finite resources of reason and rationality."

"You mean to say that in a subjective experience where one is exposed to the infinite impossibilities of the universe, the human understanding of universal paradigms and rational sciences must be cast aside for the sake of _insanity?_"

"Not insanity--**faith**. Faith does not take religion, but it takes _humanity_. For whatever it is that robs us of the will--be it Nietzsche's herd instinct or elemental obstructions--we must face the paradoxes of our conflictive resignation, telos, and _fate_...and only through true faith can we ever come out in the end with a sense of accomplishment, victory, and _purpose._"

"Heh.. ... ...And I don't suppose you practice this 'faith' often with the stuff that you desire?"

"Of what _I_ desire?... ... ... ... ... ...For me to _desire_ **anything** beyond the impossibility that personally waits at the end of the road for me--that has _always_ waited in obstruction for me... ... ... ...it takes a faith so absurd that no words can properly equivocate its spiritual weight..."

"... ... ... ..."

"... ... ... ..."

"... ... ... ..."

"... ... ...hmm...do you hear that?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

"Mammoth's footsteps. He's pounding his way here...over asphalt, from the sound of it. He must be running at full speed--Which means he's still got a lot of energy left in him."

"Which means the Titans haven't cleaned his clocks yet."

"Undoubtedly, Gizmo is with him..."

"And I can already see Starfire's bright green streak. The Titans are coming here too."

"I wonder if they realize how long we've been waiting here... ...doing nothing but talking?"

"Whatever... ..."

"Feh... ...," Jinx stands up from an a/c unit atop the Downtown Museum rooftop. The dark-blue night contrasts gently with her pink-hued hair. "I wasn't in the mood for a jewel heist anyways," she brushes herself off and plants her hands on her hip with a smirk. "Even when I can manage a 'girl's night out', I'm always the only girl."

"Sorry, I can't relate," I murmur as I stand up and adjust my blue robe.

"You can't relate cuz you're _not a girl?_" Jinx win_k_s. "Or because--"

"I don't get out much. I don't need to," I glare.

"Why not? Hehe--Doesn't this feel--?"

"It's over. The Titans and the H.I.V.E. students are coming...," I pull my hood over my head and flex my fingers into meditative poses. "Besides.. ...I _won _the debate."

"Pffft!" She sticks her tongue out and gets into a fighting pose. "Did **not**!"

"I _always_ win the debate..."

"Yeah, well...," Jinx grins as her eyes start to glow a hot fuschia. "You won't _win_ the next debate! Will ya?"

"… …. …"

"Will ya?"

The pounding footsteps intensify. The green aura glows brighter. As everyone closes in, the sounds and smell of a long night's worth of combat starts to rise, rise, rise...

"There _won't be another debate."_

"Heh," she winks. "Sure there won't."

"... ... .. ...," my lips curve ever so slightly. "Azarath..."

"Nnnngh--" She charges up her hex'd wrists.

"...Metrion..."

"HAAAA!"

"..ZINTHOS!"

FLASH!

FLASH!


	79. Weak

﻿

I am weak.

Not meditatively.

Not mentally or spiritually—_or at least I believe._

But in everything else.

In everything that my friends scale me to.

In everything that this world pressures me with.

With each passing second of the sighing celestials…

I am weak.

This porcelain princess of a frame that absurdly houses me….

It cannot be right.

_I am so much more **'immense'** than this._

_Too great a danger to be wrapped up in such wispy blue streamers…._

Even the first atomic bomb was laughably large to look at.

But—perhaps it is true what the western superstitioners say….

….the Devil wraps terrible things in pretty packages.

And though I am hardly anything 'pretty', I am certainly _petty_.

Just yesterday, a single backhanded slap from a thug sent me sprawling to the ground in the middle of a drug sting operation.

Beast Boy had to drag me to safety while Robin furiously beat the ever-living-cholesterol out of the hapless thug.

I suppose that this 'weakness' inherent in me has been magnified all the more in just the past month.

Ever since my father's first entrance into this world… .. ….the burning holocaust of it all.. … …the death, rebirth, and disappearance of Slade.. …. …

The Titans almost lost me. In a way, I pity them that they _didn't_. And yet, I cannot help but feel a certain… …._'security'_ in knowing how much they fought to protect me. How much they _still_ fight to protect me. People all too commonly do not know what is loss unto them until experience the loss itself.

I do not know what it is about me that makes the Titans care so much. I do not know what it is that they grab ahold of from the plethora of _less than cheerful_ words I have to rattle off at them when the last thing I ever want to do is 'hang out'. I do not know what makes them smile when I barely give them more than a droning sigh or rolling eyes every second of everyday. I have tried most extensively throughout my temporal existence among my friends to _not_ get along with them and yet…

They are my friends… …. …and I am theirs… …

Above all absurdity in the world is the undeniable fortune I've had to be loved and admired by those I don't understand nearly enough to begin _loving them_. And everytime I approach the topic, I'm reassured by my friends themselves that they love me… …and that I am a good person….a loveable and _respectable_, heroic individual.

How is it that they see this? What strength is it that they spy in me that I am utterly lost to? What makes this girl so paradoxically special that they'd risk their inheritance of the entire _world_ to save from the ashes of herself?

I remember… ….

I remember when—on the day the world 'ended'—the Titans took me to the safest spot in the Tower.

And Cyborg…

Cyborg _carried_ me.

That had never happened before. I had never.. …been so weak and helpless before.

But gradually, with each passing second of this 'new lull' before my father strikes again…

I realize….

I realize…….

My friends have been carrying me all along.

And perhaps there is no stronger place to be than in the weakest place to be.

As I continue to be myself.

Only….

I continue to be myself with—_affordably_—a little more 'grace'.

For being weak teaches me the gentle side of the universe. There is one. I just have to learn after all this time that—in spite of the strain—it's only natural (or necessary) to shove the dark karma bully back.

I have a cyborg, a changeling, an alien, and a caped avenger standing alongside my half of the playground.


	80. Chain

﻿

"Ooooh! Well lookie-here!" His titanium shoulders shuffle and shift in the background. A cackling voice of electronic laughter echoes across the Main Room. "'To Cyborg, for your birthday'. Now ain't that just peachy! I didn't know any y'all knew my birthday was tomorrow!"

Silence….

"Hello?" His voice continues to echo in lonesome harmonics because he is the only body in the room.

Well…almost…

"Keep it down…," I mutter and flip a page in my novel. _Vampire Princess On Ice… …or something._ I sit at the kitchen counter across the way with my chin propped up by two pale hands as I pour myself ever so fervently into my book. "The world is a large enough place that if you need to announce your jubilation—" I drone "—you needn't choose to do it so _loudly **here**_."

"But this is just spankin' sweet! Now who's the chump who thought of giving me something on today of all days?" Cyborg smirks, parading around in his metallic palms a slender package wrapped in silverish, reflective paper. "All it says is 'To Cyborg, for your birthday'! Doesn't say who it's from! Now talk about anonymous lovvvve! Ha ha HA!"

"Boy do you sound jubilant," I roll my eyes without rolling so much as to see him. "Could you please, just—"

"Open it up and share it with you? Sure thing, cutie!"

"Nnnngh….don't call me _cutie_—"

"It's a small Tower! Now who do you think would have done something as silly as tried to send me something as a silent benefactor? I don't have all that many to choose from!"

"I don't know, Cyborg, and I don't care…"

"Pffft! Nuts to you, Missy Nihilistette!" He squats down right beside me…_well_, _two stools down…._ "I gotta figure out who it was! Hmmm.. …. …Robin? Nah, he'd think doing something like this would be fruity. B.B.? Naw, he can't afford much. Starfire's a dead-give away, but Terra--?"

"Just open it already so you can leave me—_and my book_—in **peace**," I grumble, flipping a page.

There is a pathetic pause as his red eye glistens and his human eye bounces around to flutter onto my figure. And then he smirks: "It wasn't _you_ by any chance, huh, Rae?"

"Heh…. …"

"Was that a giggle?"

"I still reserve laughter for the most extreme excuses of absurdity."

"But—"

"I don't give gifts, Cyborg," I finally turn to glare at him. "Just the same as I don't expect to _receive_ any."

"Well, Raven, I think that's just a sad way to live your life."

"I'm sure you think a lot of things….."

He shrugs, then brightens as he rubs his hands together—"Well, enough friggin' suspense! Happy Birthday to Cyyyyy!"—and rips the fabric apart.

I sigh, shake my head, and flip another page. I swear—for a moment—that I'm plunging once again deeply into the content of my pages when suddenly--

"BOO-YA!"

My whole body shakes. I nearly collapse off the stool.

_Dear Azar!_

"Just in time for Spring Break!" Cyborg grins one….two…._three_ crescent moons in conflict with Newtonian light physics and whips out from the package the source of his jubilation. A gold, glittering, immaculate chain necklace. Just large enough to frame his upper body…. ..but not overly-huge to be tacky, gaudy, or laughable. "Ha ha ha ha! Now ain't that rich! Talk 'bout your bling-bling, girl!"

"….excuse me?"

"Yeah—Ha!—this is _just_ the kind of thing I've always wanted to have when hangin' with my homies!"

"Congratulations," I drone. "You're black."

"And there ain't no goin' back!" Cyborg stands up proudly and sports the chain around his neck. "Hmmm… …kinda pointless when it's against a metal chest…"

I bite my lip. "Erm…."

"But it's a damn good excuse for me to whip out my hoodie from the high school days! Haha—_Boo ya! _Kickin' it old-school style! Feels like I'm back in the flesh again! Ha HA!"

"Boy…," I murmur. I subconsciously push back my stubborn strand of blue hair and gaze off. "….don't you _sound happy…."_

"Cuz this is the most perfect gift I could ask for! It's just so… ..haha—it's _bling_, baby! Makes me forget I'm a stressed-out superhero in real life, ya dig?"

"Good. You're happy. Now just…. …I dunno… …shut up about it and leave me alone…."

"Aww, come on, girl! I'm just so thrilled that someone actually thought about my birthday!"

"Then stop filling the Tower up with your racket and just.. ….just go out with some people and have fun or something….," I drone and flip another page. "My headache's gone past Defcon Three…."

He squints at me coyly, fingering the glittering chain around his neck. "You **sure** you have no clue who the anonymous sender is on this fine, feathered evening?"

"Ask me again, and you'll lose your ears you need to hear an _answer_," I grumble, my temple throbbing.

"Heh… ..Very well, cutie," he shrugs with a smirk. "As a matter of fact, I _do_ intend to spend a night on the town with this thing!"

"Good….," I read, read, read….

Then Cyborg's metal fingers graze a white tag hanging off the rear clasp of the chain. He whistles, shakes his head, smirks, and looks at me: "Ya know, Rae, for future reference.. ….When you're givin' somebody a gift, it's usually a good idea to _take off the price tag_…."

"Oh." I breathe. "I'm sorry, I guess I forgot to----" I **wince**. Teeth gritting. My whole body in mid-jerk.

Cyborg grins… ….grins….

"…. … …. ….. …. ….. … …. …. … …," the stool squeaks as I get up, clap my book shut, and shuffle off towards the elevator. "I'll be in my room." I drone.

"Heh heh heh….," Cyborg winks and gives a thumb's up. "Naturally, girl."

There are parts of my body that are burning red-on-pale. Fortunately, I reach the opening elevator faster than Cyborg can say anything more. Unfortunately, there is a certain Tamaranian standing inside.

"Friend Raven! Are you going down—"

**"Yes."** I practically jam my fist onto the 'down' arrow and the doors close, sealing off the noise of a drunkenly chuckling Cyborg. I let out a sigh in the descending car, hug my book, and slump against a wall.

"Dearest friend, is there something troubling you?" Starfire asks with a sympathetic look on her face.

"Nnnngh… ..N-Nothing, Star…," I swallow the redness away, push my stubborn strand up out of my forehead again, and exhale. "Cyborg just… .. …j-just got a white elephant gift from someone or something." I shrug superficially. "Who knows…."

"I see… …and yet I do not understand…," the Tamaranian murmurs.

"It's fine. I just… …need to be somewhere peaceful where I can **read**."

She smiles at me from behind. "You are always 'looking for places to read'."

"Shut up."

"Hehehehe…."

Silence………

Starfire hugs herself, leans against the opposite wall, and smiles gently to corners of the place. "That reminds me ever so faintly of this same time a few months ago when I received a package of one dozen exquisite mustard bottles at the door to my room…."

"…. ….," I glance aside at her. "Really?"

"Mmmm… …Indeed. Such nectar was well received. The delightful beverage assisted me wondrously throughout a long, stressful week of battling Slade's minions."

"Hmmm… ….lucky you…"

She glances up. "Although, Raven, it would have been infinitely times more delightful if the mustard bottles had been shrouded in customary Terran 'gift wrapping paper'."

I shrug. "Sorry. I was short on time that day and—_Great Azar, not again!.!.!"_

"**Heheheheheheheheeee!"**

I brought my book to my forehead.

_Whap! Whap! Whap!_

"Eep! Raven! Don't!"

_WHAP!_


	81. What

﻿

As I stand here on the towering balconies of Titan's Tower and gaze out upon the fog-laden waves of San Francisco Harbor, I feel a strange peace. But in all reality, the peace isn't entirely _'strange'_. Only in the recent years meagerly available to me have I realized just how often every storm is associated with a calm. Perhaps this time of perfect meditation is an omen—a need for me to worry. But I try and not let it consume me. My life has been far too filled with worry. Agony and dread are no longer my bed partners—and though I may have become 'younger' by fate, I am all the more mature through experience and reflection. And that is not an excuse towards bragging rights. It is my utmost, sincerest gratitude towards the fates at work.

So much is crumbling apart as of late, that perhaps this peace is nothing more than the sensational numbness following the crest of tempestuous annihilation. The desolate aftermath is my solace, and the silent halls of this Tower and the cool fog of the seascape lull me into a distant dream. It is like the feeling I get when I wake up spontaneously in the middle of the night. I am a different person piercing my gasping way through this cocoon of dark night, and every morning I feel so bloodily reborn that it terrifies and cleanses me all the same.

I wasn't the only Titan to think that when Superboy was possessed to attack us, we had been dealt with the worse pain imaginable. But with careful consideration, the older-veined of us can share a sense of long-winded déjà vu. The treacheries of Terra and Jericho have long stretched our skin thin—that now we stand tall in the midst of the grieving youths about us. Cassie's days are full of grieving—both silent or not. Bart tries to make sense of it all, and even when he's across the continent I can feel his soul rattling about like a frightened animal against the rusted bars of a tiny, tiny cage. Tim's arm is recovering, but he won't admit to the worse injuries he's suffered—for both he and Conner shared the seeds of the Titans' personal crisis long before it happened; the most thorned flowers are those doubly cared for. Mia keeps a safe distance from it all—letting confusion reign over sorrow—and Vic and Garfield are as silent and brooding over the latest case of 'betrayal'…as always.

I do not see it as betrayal. And it is my hope that the other Titans love and trust Conner enough to know that what has happened to us Luthor's doing, not to mention the accomplishment of multiple other deviant plots funneling into one. But I will not say I was without any pain the moment Superboy was turned on us. For just like Terra—he attacked me first. And it has made me wonder if there is something inherently enticing about me that makes the malevolent forces of this universe seek their nefarious passions through me before everything else. It certainly used to make sense in the past. I was a doorway for so many inconceivable horrors—and in a lot of ways, I still am. Although I certainly have a lot more confidence and support these days.

No… …not _support_. I have always had support from the Titans. I owe them more than my soul-self can serve to magically provide them. There are times that I wish I could simply devote them the same passion and emotion that they display around me. But I realize to do so would not 'Raven'. And I have not better thing—it would seem—to give them than myself. And that blesses me. It blesses me so incredibly much.

…so much that—I could not allow Conner to feel the false sense of helplessness that I have let myself fall weak to in the past. I know what it is like to not be allowed to understand oneself beyond the fact that I am the daughter of someone so, horribly terrible that the best I can ever aspire to be is a weapon to extinguish the lives of everyone and everything around me I care for. And that my life is something so horribly dangerous that suicide itself would fail to circumnavigate—one hardly ever feels more lonely.

So I visited Conner during his retreat in the Kents' home. I reflected for him a mirror to his very soul. And I trust that he has come to a realization not unlike mine—that there is always hope for people who have a true grasp of their soul. For a villain never has a grasp of who they really are, but instead they are always trying to make up for the emptiness by acting as a vacuum towards the rest of the universe. Conner is no victim either. Like me, he is merely a fresh foot out of the grave.

I feel, now, that Conner is now the first of the Titans who understands what I've been going through for these past few months. I am alive—yes—but how wild and unruly a life it is. My time had come far too long ago, and yet through the insanity of the young Brother Blood's ceremony of sacrilege I was brought back. I am a much wearier yet 'younger' facsimile of what I used to be. And—as always—it is only because of the warm hold of the Titans that I have ever had a chance of surviving. And survive I have.. …to the best of my ability. I've survived to see the marvel of a 'Robin' that Tim has become in Dick's place. I have seen Victor—a warrior of a man—make a new legacy out of this team of young superheroes. I've seen Troia, the deceased martyr—and then transformed back into the resurrected goddess. And Garfield…

…Garfield….I used to always fear for him. He is a child—he has always been a child. But only now—as the world of magic falls into a chaotic maelstrom that I am at a loss to explain—I feel that Garfield is far more human and far more strong and—yet—far more _fragile_ than ever I have seen him before. I understand that Victor, Kory, Dick and Wally must be away to take care of their own necessary missions in this latest Crisis, and that I am hard-pressed to cling to the closest friends familiar to me. But suddenly I am overwhelmed with the sudden urgency to assure that Garfield is _safe_.

For I have always been a threat to my team members. Always I have been a doorway to and from a real of unimaginable horror. And now—with a horror of a far stranger sort looming overhead—I feel for the first true time that the one danger that may consume all of my friends is something that does not have its roots in my soul. I no longer have the responsibility of evil—and yet as much as this liberation may seem a blessing, it _scares_ me. For I do not know how to protect my friends from something so dangerous that it has not its origins in me. I have grown desperate, and yet it goes against everything I have meditated to maintain about myself to admit such. But I did admit it—at least to Garfield—when I kissed him for the very first time.

I know he still wanders about it. But my answer—though perhaps not good enough for him—is as true as it ever could possibly be. I did what I wanted to do. And I wanted him to be safe… ..safe with me. Never before did I have the ability to have both things, trust and security with someone else. And I took advantage of it the first moment I could, however selfishly. I feel that—with this 'second chance' I have received, I have every freedom to be just that. Selfish.

And so here I stand—meditating and resting in the cool vistas of the San Francisco tranquility. I know that it will not last long. For whatever reason, a tempest of unprecedented proportions may very well consume us all. And we may not know what to do, but I trust that we will know where to be. With each other. Garfield.. …Victor… …

Koriand'r… …. ….Oh, how I do miss Kory now. Souls of Azar—please—keep her safe wherever she is. If anything righteous and pure remains with the spirit of my people—I pray that they keep her and all of us safe.

I pray….

I…..

…

---

…

I open my eyes.

The soft darkness of my world entreats me.

I sit up with a shuffling of my bedsheets.

Shadows, shadows, shadows…

And calm….

"Nnnngh….," I murmur and rub my pale forehead, smoothing away the wrinkles of far too confusing dream residue.

_What was that all about?_

I blink.

I blink some more.

A Tower… …

_Fog on the water… …far away…._

Multiple earths away…

_**Infinite** earths away… …_

I sigh, shake my head, and sink back into the covers.

I turn over and let myself get swallowed into the sheets and shadows.

Grumbling mentally at the mere thought—

A pox upon Beast Boy and his tofu pizza… …

Never again, you pathetic green elf.

Never again… ….


	82. Bunk

﻿

"Dearest Raven, please allow me a moment to convey just how intensely honored I am that you would bestow upon me the liberty to house myself withn your sacred abode if even just for a fortnight..."

"Yes, well, that's just it, Starfire. It's not _forever_," I shuffle across my bedroom in blue, velvet pajamas. _No, no nightgown when there is nocturnal 'company'. Not in the least._ "Beast Boy has the Chicken Pox. And though that may be no big deal for someone his age--well, actually...it **could** be a big deal--But it's an even bigger deal if an extra-terrestrial not native to this planet were to come into contact with it."

She blinks her innocent, emerald eyes at me. Sitting atop a plush cot stretched out on the far side of the dark-lit room. "Is that why Robin has quarantined the upper half of our Tower?"

"Mmmhmmm," I light two lamps besides my bed and sit on the edge of the _bird-beakish_ frame. "He doesn't want to take any chances, and I really don't blame him. And knowing the way Beast Boy practically _oozes_ everywhere when he so much as has the flu--well--let's just say that a sick superhero who can change into multiple different animals is a contaminant just _waiting_ to happen."

"I hope you do realize, Raven...," Starfire shifts in her seat. She's clad in long pajamas like mine--only of the pink variety. _I never will understand that color for the life of me..._ "Cyborg offered me a place to sleep prior to you, and I was more than willing to--"

"Uh... ... ...no," I shake my head. "You're not sleeping in Cyborg's room."

She smiles politely. "But he assured me he could very well spend the evening recharging his internal computer cells--"

"Cyborg's room is a _computer laboratory_, Starfire. The most comfort you'd get overnight is sleeping on a cold, metal **slab** for six to eight hours."

"I'll have you know that Tamaranians have a remarkable threshold when it comes to Terran assumptions of 'nocturnal discomfort'."

"As if I didn't know that from seeing your head hang off the bed the one or two times you and I had to room together before..."

She gasps: "And exactly what is wrong about the X'Halian Dream Posture?"

I shake my head and sigh. "Starfire.. . ...I'd like to think I know a thing or two about the nature of existence. And even someone as necessarily detached from the emotions in practice as I am can attest that in the whole wide world of meditation, _asceticism is **absurd**_."

"Truly?"

"Yes, truly. You're staying here overnight. You're having a decently _comfortable _cot to sleep on. It's only fair that way. It's what you'd want. And it's what Robin woul--er... ...It's what the _Titans_ would want."

She smiles and hugs a glork plushie to her chest. "Raven, your generosity to me is exceptional lately..."

I glance at her through the corners of suspicious, violet eyes. "Why _should _it be?"

"More often than naught, you are vehemently opposed to any of your teammates so much as _venturing_ within the confines of your room."

"My room is as sacred as I decree it to be...," I gesture with a queenly posture. "While the Book of Azar holds high the value of solitude, it also maintains the Unbiquitous Rule. I have every reason to trust and respect you by now, Starfire. And besides..." I smoothe back a bang or two absent-mindedly while adding. "You've... .. ...k-kinda been through a lot lately. What, with the changes you went through and the outer space trek and the chrysalis eater and all--"

"Nnnnngh...," Starfire shudders and hugs her glork plushie tighterto her chest. "The thoughts of that vile carnivore shakes the fabric of my very being. I was almost certain for a moment there that I would be utterly consumed... ...devoured alive..."

I look at her. I try not to wince. I try not to do anything but recognize and respect the surmounting darkness of that evening.

"W-Well... ... ...," I fidget... ...then slide a little further into my blue bed. ".. ...I need to get up early tomorrow for meditation.. ...l-like I always do..."

"I... ...I-I...," Starfire trembles.

I pause and sigh. "_What?"_

"I-I am sorry, Raven. Do please turn out the lights. I shall do my best not to whimper into the night..."

_Dear stars above... ...the Drama..._

"Is it really bothering you _that bad_, Starfire?"

"I-I shall overcome it," she manages with a breathy shaking. "In truth, I have experienced far worse horrors in my life's experience and yet have emerged not only victorious but stronger."

"... .. ...think you can emerge before I turn the lights off?"

"I fear the image of her fangs still linger in m-my mind..."

"Nnngh...," I rub my forehead. Easing the tense with kneading fingers around my chakra. "Starfire... ...what good is it to give you the chance to sleep somewhere comfortably if you cannot get comfortable enough to sleep in the first place?"

"I am incapable of distracting myself, Raven. My deepest apologies. If you feel as if your graciousness has been maligned, I shall verily attempt to relocate myself to--"

"No..._No_...," I stand up from my bed. "If it's a distraction that you want... ..." I shuffle over towards my bookcase in an ease that even surprises _me_. "Then I think I have just the thing..." I pull an old, old book out and open its latch. I walk back over to Starfire's side of the room and sit at a stool in front of my vanity and not too far from her. "There's a tradition on Terra Firma--in Western Culture as welll as in Eastern, I imagine, but especially Western..." I plant the large manuscrypt on my lap and flip through the pages. "It's called a 'bedtime story'.. ...hopefully it will help you go to sleep a little better..."

Starfire gasps in adequate childish touch. "Oooh! Yes, I have heard of these!" She somehow clasps her girlish hands together and hugs her plushie at the same time. _Whatever._ "They are reserved for intimacy and trust among family members, are they not?"

"Erm...," I fumble at a page or two--then continue flipping towards the 'story'. "I just like to think of it as a long-standing, cultural fad."

Starfire's eyes narrow: "But I have also heard that such 'stories of the bed time' are most often inclined towards audiences of infantile nature."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Who told you that?"

"Cyborg."

"Ah... ...but that's just it," I flip one last page and reach my 'spot'. "Cyborg's just one big infant himself."

"He he he he!"

"I think you'll like it Starfire..."

"Is that why you are doing this, Raven?" Starfire leans her head cutely to the side. "To make me feel more pleasantly?"

"It's to make sure that you sleep so that I can sleep so that I can **meditate in peace tomorrow.**"

"I-I understand..."

"Right... ...ahem... ...so--uh--here's a story--"

"A _bedtime story?_"

"Yes."

"Heeeeee!"

"T-Try to just... ...be calm and listen, Starfire. Or else you may not... ... ..well... ..._fall asleep_ and make everyone **happy**..."

"Forgive me, it is only that I once requested of Robin if he would read me a 'story of the bedtime' in person, but I feared I had imposed upon some unspoken Terran perogative. For as soon as I had uttered my request, his skin tone changed to a bright red and he could only stammer amidst a profusion of sweat glands and--"

"Well, it's not a problem _for me_. So...just.. ...erm... ...here's the story."

"Alright, Raven!" She smiles and lies back happily in bed. Like a cute coffin.

"Ahem..." I scan down the page. "'And so it came to pass that I, Malchior of Nol, did lay siege to the dread dragon Rorek. But it did seem the power of Rorek was greater than my magics could def--'"

"Friend Raven?"

"... ... ... ... ... ..._Yes_, Starfire?"

"What is a 'dragon'?"

"... ... ...," I blink at her. "... ...Erm... ...Well..."

"Is it an unkindly beast of some sort?"

"I suppose you could say that. It's...erm... ...part of Terran mythos. Multiple cultures speak of giant serpents and creatures that can swim the deepest seas and take flight to the tallest mountains, not to mention hoarde treasures of gold and pillage the dwellings of royal subjects--"

"Then they are malovelent creatures?"

"Well, for the most part. But I would think they are more 'misunderstood' than evil--"

"But did you not say they pillage societies and--?"

"L-Let me just... ...read more of the story, Starfire."

"Oh! M-Most certainly, Raven."

"Ahem..." _Oy..._ "R-Right... ..Where was I--Here." I scan the page again. "'And as the fell beast struck, I summoned the forces of my enchanted book. And with a curse more ancient and foul than Rorek himself--'"

"Raven?"

"SNkkt--nngh... ..._Yes_, Starfire?"

"If the 'dragon' is not malevolent, then why is this noble 'Malchior' attempting to eradicate him?"

"Well... ...he has no other choice...The Dragon's trying to eat him."

"Eat him? How is that possible?"

"Well, the dragon could breathe fire on him and then finish the rest of him off with his teeth and--"

"EEP!" She hides half of her face under her blanket and shivers. "Mmmmf--Teeth? Brazen teeth? Liken unto the horrid Chrysalis Eater?"

"Er--N-No! I mean...," I bite my lip and gestured spasmically in the air with my left hand. "Uh...Uh...SCALES! D-Dragon scales! Dragons have scales, and--I guess--scales in the mouth of a dragon would... ... ..._be... ...teeth, wouldn't they, Raven? Ugh..._"

"Ohhhhh," Starfire clenches her eyes shut. "This is the most horrid tale! I feel so emphatically terrible for the afflicted Malchior!"

"B-But... ...Starfire! He--uh--defeats him in the end!" I flip through a few pages. "See?--Oh wait, well now that just _ruins the whole story, doesn't it?"_

"Such... ...ferocious... ..._Teeth_," Starfire trembles.

"... ... ... ..," I look at her. Then the book. Then her again. "... .. ...Tell you what." I flick my wrist. _Flash!_ The book is encased in black telekinesis. It floats up and--by my guidance--soars back to the bookcase. "I've been going about this all wrong. If you need to hear something that puts you to sleep, then you'll hear only the best." I pull from long distance another book that soars towards me on obsidian airwaves. I snatch the old, tapered-edge manuscrypt and flip to the first few pages. "Ahem... ...In Introduction to Baruch Spinoza's _Ethics_, published posthumously following his death in 1677. 'Benedictus de Spinoza--originally a criticist of Rene Descartes and his Cartesian methodology--continues to establish a revolutionary Western definition on the essence God and the universe in terms of the Nature of substance as one solitary, all-pervasive essence which many pantheists since have served to reference as rational support for their own unique ideology. In attempting to define God through the structure of reason, Spinoza outlines with a series of self-referential propositions, postulates, and scholia--along with the assitance of clear definitions and axioms--that there can only be one imminent Substance in the universe, for substances are defined by their uniquely different absolutes and since no two substances can exist that share the same attributes, and since God is the one absolute entity who serves as the source of all absolutes, then God is the one and only Substance in the universe or else a paradox of conflicting, pluralistic substances would alternatively fail to exist. Since God is the one and only Substance of existence, His will--or intellect--is simultaneously His nature, and as such His Nature is omnipresently imminent in the perceivable causation of all actions, events, things, and objects that make up the modes and attributes derived from the Substance of God. To say that man has free will under this nature of existence is fallacious, for everything mankind does is determined by other sets of actions and attributes, which is determined yet again by other actions and attributes, which--ad infinitum--is determined by the Substance of God. In this translation of the Dutch philosophe Spinosa's rational attempt to postulate the Substance of God, I shall attempt to explore--'"

"ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

I stop.

I look at Starfire.

I silence myself...

"ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...," she sleeps, snuggling her glork plushie. Her head hanging off the edge of the bed.

_So she **is** comfortable._

"Hmmmff...," my lips curve slightly as I slap the book close. I whisper to myself. "Never fails..." I stand up from the stool, stifle an unladylike yawn (_whatever_) and shuffle tyredly towards my bed. "Now if only I had Kant lying around when Beast Boy needed to be put to sleep."

_Talk about the 'categorical imperative'..._

The lights are soon out.

And sooner am I.


	83. Home

﻿

He drops down right in front of me, the moonlight glinting off the polymerized titanium of his yellow cape.

I barely blink in recognition.

He stands up at full height and stares directly at me through that blank, expressionless eyemask.

"Hello, Raven."

"Robin."

"Startled to see me?"

"Mmmm…," I gesture in the air. "After you chose at least three and a half ways to get my attention before our meeting here, how could I be?"

We stand on a high hill overlooking the Bay to a familiar City, splotched with a distant island in the middle of the waters half a mile before dry land sprouts into skyrises, skyrises, skyrises….

"It feels like only yesterday that we were here last….," the Boy Wonder speaks to me. "The threat that we faced—the danger—it is still very much fresh in my mind."

"Is it so much the _danger_ as it is the **_thrill_** that you're sensing right now?"

A good beat, and he smiles under his mask. A sign that he is indeed _human_. "So.. ….you are an empathy…"

"I trust you've attempted to study up on me?"

"More or less. But there's nothing in the Batcomputer to attest to your existence. You have no name, no home, no known relatives, even your face is pretty much lost to me…."

I lean the said head to the side from under my hood. "Then, do I really exist?"

"… … …," He folds his arms and speaks for the first time in a voice that almost makes me want to be _subservient_ to the young 'leader'. "It depends, Raven. Do you want to start existing?"

"I want to form a team… … …a team of young superheroes with the power and responsibility to protect this City….," he gestures out across the moonlit bay. "A team that will someday be experienced enough to understand just what it takes to protect that which will be left for us to defend once the Justice Society and Justice League have moved on. And—"

"—who better than to form such a group than the younglings who partook in the calamity right here less than a month ago," I drone.

Robin winces. For once, I nearly _startled him_. "I-I wouldn't so much as call it a calamity…"

"There was an alien girl going biserk. A changeling tripping over his own green body parts. An African American robot angsting left and right. The shadow of a legendary cape trying to prove himself. And a lonesome witch to boot," I mutter calmly to him. Violet eyes as dismal as ever, and yet not higher than him as I add inquiry: "Do you think there's something to be salvaged in that?"

"You tell me, Raven."

"For there is more to you than meets the eye, is there?" Robin paces assuredly around me as he narrates: "The Batcomputer may not have pulled much up, but my observation skills have. You've never left this City _once_ since Cyborg, Beast Boy, Starfire and I battled the Gordanian threat, have you? You've been walking circles. Keeping to the shadows. Hiding out on rooftops and blending with the passing fade of the dying days. And to what end? Circles, Raven. Circles… ..circles… … …circles. I believe you are looking for an answer, Raven. An answer that presently holds a vacuum of space around which you've been helplessly orbiting, but not for any longer… … …" He comes to a stop. His eyemask narrows from a furrowing of his brow. "… …you have a purpose… …and that purpose is to save lives, isn't it?"

For the first time, I can't bear to look at him straight on. So I invent something. I hide my eyes further into the depths of my hood and look _aside_ him. I drone: "I look to help as many people as I can b-before I h-hurt them…."

"Am I supposed to know what that entails?"

"….. …. …n-no….," I shudder. I gaze at him. "But you can show me…."

He nods… …gently….

"Whatever this is… …," I murmur. "… …whatever this _'team'_ of yours you are proposing turns out to be… .. ….understand this." I take one bold step towards him. I lower my hood. Blue hair. Glaring eyes. A dark voice: "I… …do not… .. …want attention….."

Robin nods. "That's more than doable," he points to himself. "As I do not want anything more than anonymity…"

"I'm serious….," I shudder and retreat back into the shadows following my bold declaration. "I do not want to be in the spotlight. I'll do what I must to help the team. But I am not to be the leader of this team."

Robin gives a thumb's up. "I think I've got that covered."

"Naturally, you do," I drone.

I bite my lip.

"We will have to contact the others….," he ends up saying.

"R-Right… …"

"Cyborg is who I want to meet with next. I hear that one of his skills is architecture."

"You don't say… ….," I blink. "Wait. You think we need a _hideout?_"

"Well, naturally," Robin shrugs and manages a kindly grin. "This is an awful long distance from both Metropolis and Gotham City, isn't it?"

"Does that mean I'll get--"

"All things considered, Raven, nothing is yet set in stone. But shoot…."

"…. … …to be able to shower and to be able to sleep," I blurt. "… …_whenever I want to_… …."

Robin raises an eyebrow.

I sigh and adjust my robe. "This dimension _smells_…."

He nods slowly. "I see… …..You know, Raven, if we do this right.. …and we get a team and a _hideout_… … ..You could very easily afford your own _room_ on top of that."

I cock my head to the side. "A room?"

"Yes."

"….. … …you mean **my very own room?**"

"Mmmhmmm."

"…. … … ….," my lips curve slightly. "Hmmm…..I rather like the sound of that."

"I thought you would."

"After you, 'leader'…."


	84. Noir

﻿

I walk down the park trail with the Titan Communicator in my grasp.

Grumbling to myself.. .. …but trying to suppress it.

"Snkkkt—Raven, any luck?"

"**No**, Robin. I can't find Beast Boy. He's running on four green paws. I've only got _two feet._"

_"Snkkkt—Keep searching! The only explanation for why he hasn't changed back to elfin form lies in him alone! Once we coax him out of whatever funk he's in, maybe then we can find out what he knows about the flying saucer."_

"Yeah… …," I fidget in mid-walk "Um….Robin.. .. .about that, I have this sneaking feeling that Beast Boy is really—"

_Wh-Whump!_ I accidentally bump into someone.

"Oomf!"

I drop the Communicator.

I brush myself off. "I-I'm terribly sorry," I drone. "I'm on an important investigation—And I-I guess I wasn't looking for where I was going….. .." I bend over to pick up my communicator….

… …but someone has already picked it up and is handing it towards me.

".. .. …," I blink. I glance up. "Uhm.. …" I take the communicator. "Th-Thank you, sir.. …"

He smiles. He performs a flurry of sign language.

I blink. "… … …Uhm.. .. …_What_?"

He holds a finger up. He pulls out an empty poker-card box and shrugs.

"Oh.. … ..Uhm…," I motion over my shoulder and across the park. "Melvin's Magic Shop. Two blocks down beyond the East Side. You can't miss it."

He smiles with a slight bow of his head. Two dark glints of sunlight. And he walks past me.

I re-grip my communicator.

I walk along.. … ..but pause…

I glance over my shoulder.

"… .. … … ….hmm.. … .."

_"Raven? Raven, are you still there?"_

"Silence is golden, Robin."

_"What?"_

I turn around and shrug my shoulders before marching.

"Take a **clue**."

_Click!_


	85. Gun

﻿

"Sir, put the gun down," I speak. Firmly. But calmly. Both hands held up in meditative poise…

He's panting. He's sweating. He's aiming the revolver at me.. ….at my half of the bullet-riddled bank lobby. There are people all around us. Quietly cowering and shivering in silence. Citizens. Tellers. Women and children. I dare not make a move, and neither does a nervously bristle-backed Beast Boy to my side.

All of this reality… …and twenty seconds have iced by…

He's still standing with the magnum in two gnarled hands. He stands in a ring of collapsed, beaten criminal cohorts all around him.

His eye twitches.

I can feel the frenzy and fury emanating from him.

"Sir… …," I stare at him, but don't glare. I speak to him, but I don't snarl. "…. …I will only ask you one more time… … …put the gun down—"

"Or wh-what?" He pants. "Do your worse to me, Titan! I dare you!"

He is too frightened to be angry. He is too angry to be frightened. His legs are nearly giving way.

"Don't make this worse than it already is—" I begin, but don't finish because--

"Shut the Hell up, damn it!" The gun barrel wobbles a bit, and then he's gripping and itching the trigger a little more intimately. "This is so typical of you.. … …so typical of you would-be heroes…"

_"Dude…,"_ Beast Boy hoarsely whispers. _"…what's he babbling about--?"_

"_Shhhh,"_ I whisper aside. The eerie air conditioning is clawing at my pale skin. I can't allow the goosebumps to show. Not for the innocent people waiting there in the line of fire. Not for the children-- "Sir, if your actions so much as _causes harm to a single ounce of skin to any of the people here—"_

"What do you Titans know about p-pain?" The man trembles. He gulps and frowns with a twitching, moist brow. "You'll just beat the crap out of me like your type has beaten the crap out of all my friends and even my old man! I know how it goes.. .. …I've lived in Bludhaven, Gotham, lower Metropolis—all the homes to what you near-do-cruds call 'scum'. You ever stopped to wonder what makes us scum, huh—_witch?_ Maybe because you're always kicking our brains out so that all that's left is blood, blood, blood—Well I'm TIRED AS HELL of bleeding! So if I have to, I'm taking one of you hypocrites with me!"

"_What are we waiting for?"_ Beast Boy hisses aside to me with fists suddenly clenched. _"Let's take this joker down!"_

"… .. … …." I stare….stare…stare…

"**WELL?**" The main aims his gun higher. I know it's at my forehead…then Beast Boy's…then mine again. _I know._ "What will it be?.?.? Beat me to a pulp! It's what you're good at, isn't it? It's the only _damn_ thing you're good at!"

My violet optics wander. I see the cowering faces trembling all around us in huddled bodies like windswept grass. The tears. The faces of naked lambs reflecting on every angle of my chakra stone….

Why can't I just sleep?

"Come on! Come on, you **witch! TAKE ME OUT!"**

_  
Why can't I just close my eyes…reopen them….and wake up somewhere else?_

"_Raven?.?.?"_

Mother… …not here…. …not now… ….

"_Raven… … ..wh-what are we waiting for?"_

I don't want to be seeing this….

"I swear to **God!** This is the end of the **damn** road!"

I don't want to be hearing this… …

"_R-Raven… …Please… .. ..Let's just clean his clock!"_

_I don't want to be….._

"Bring it! Bring it already! Render me a sack of meat you just LOVE to flatten, you dirty spandex kids!"

_I don't want to…._

I stand.

He sweats.

He aims the gun at me… …at Beast Boy.. ….at the rest of the bank…

He…

I….


	86. Books

﻿

I am surrounded.

And I am engulfed.

And as far as I tilt my head up or look left and right…

I am overwhelmed in the infinite sense.

"Finally… …" I breathe.

It is the middle of the day.

Indoors with scattered sunlight and dust particles.

Dressed in an unassuming blue sweatjacket and jeans.

"Finally… …. …." I breathe again.

The City Library.

Third Floor.

English Renaissance.

"…. … …**finally** I have time and space to _read… ….,"_ I murmur as my pale fingers rub across the spines, spines, spines…. …. ….

… …It's not a very ironic thing, actually.

For when do I ever have space to read?

True, I read a _lot_—or at least I **try** to read a lot.

But it never fails. Starfire's childish suggestions. Beast Boy's foolish pranks. Cyborg's gut-wrenching laughter and Robin's endless _chores_… ….

"Not today… … …Not this hour… … …" I murmur as quietly as superhumanly possible. There is no expression to my face. My body just drifts along the aisle like melting ice. It's my psyche's way of 'smiling'.

Indeed, forbidden…. …. "… …just me…. …the silence… … ….and Seventeenth Century England… …"

I pull out a weathered, old parchment. Barely in tact. This library is old—with brickwork and _stained-glass art_ connecting the urban past of this City site to a church of long-gone-lore. It shall forever be a holy place of thought and thought alone. The book speaks of the library's age. It too is crumbling under the weight of its own years accumulating. But in my gentle fingers, it practically hovers.

I open the pages. I blow off the dust. And the iciness within me travels lightly to my lips, indeed…

_Indeed…._

"Mmmmm….," I lean back against the opposite book shelving and cradle the book in my grasp as I _absorb…._ "Katherine Philips, I hardly knew ye." A breath. Girl nostrils… …lady lips.. … …mother trachea… "How is Orinda lately anyways---?"

_Vmm-Vmm-Vmm._

"… …. …. …."

_Vmm-Vmm-Vmm._

"… … .. …..nnngh….." I grumble. I try to calm down. I take a deep breath.

I have found my center.

_My center dissolves._

Perfect clarity…

_Zero dichotomy…._

_Peace….._

I jab a hand down, snap the Titan communicator on, and shove it to my ear. **"Yeah? What?"**

"_Snkkkt—Raven? Are you going out to the library?"_

"**Yes**, Beast Boy. I am _at_ the library. Which means that you have less than ten seconds to quietly give me a reason for interrupting my R&R so that your subsequent disembowlment upon my return home will involve just _that_ much more gracious morphine."

_"Uhhhh—I was just gonna ask, that's near the Kwik-ey Mart, right?"_

_"Right?"_

"What in Azar's name could you _possibly_ want from the convenience store?"

_"Well, I was reallllly needing some more soy sauce for tomorrow's Tofu Surprise and—"_

"Beast Boy.. .. …Can't you just _fly_ to the grocery store, or--?"

_"What? Are you crazy? And let myself get mobbed by floods of crazy, rabid fanchicks?"_

"Then go as a skunk."

"_Dude! I don't think the supermarket's a 'no shirt no service place.'"_

"How I pity the Sane… ….now good bye—"

"_Oh pleeease, Raven? You're already out! Think of it as paying me back for…. ….f-for… …"_

"For what?"

_"Th-The mountain of tea I'm gonna buy you the next time **I'M** out! I promise! I'll make it up to you!"_

"Nnnngh….," I rub my forehead and slouch in the center of the aisle. "… ….if it means you _not_ calling me again, then sure…."

"_Woo-Hoo! All right! Wicked! And I-I'll pay you back too, Raven!"_

"I thought Robin had made it clear that this day was to be my day off with no interruptions whatsoever—"

_"Oh, I know!"_

"---….unless a dire emergency."

"_Pfft! Chytaa! And you don't think **TOFU** is a dire emergency—Raven? Hello!"_

**Click.**

I pocket the communicator away.

I take a deep breath.

I melt… …calm down… ….and pour myself back into the book again.

"Mmmm… ….My Dearest Lucasia.. … …where did it all go wrong---?"

_Vmm-Vmm-Vmm!_

"Snkk-kraa-ghhht--….nkkt…..mmm….ahemm….." I slowly shut my eyes. I raise a finger in a meditative pose and let it drop slowly down the middle of my face as I inhale….

_Vmm-Vmm-Vmm!_

_Thwooosh!_ I practically slap the communicator open. "Beast Boy, for the last time, I—"

"_Heya, cutie! Thought you might like to know that the History Channel is running a day-long documentary marathon about the Bronte sisters!"_

I blink. "… .. …. …"

_"Rae? You there?"_

I snap out of it. "Ahem. Cyborg, as much as that appeals to me, there's only one problem."

_"What's that?"_

"I don't watch television. **Ever.**"

_"Awwww…..Not even for this? I thought you'd love this stuff, girl!"_

"Not while it's being fed to me through the box of banality."

_"Hah hah hah! Is that what you call it? That's the silliest thing I've heard you say yet, cuti—"_

"Cyborg, Library time. Me. Now."

_"B-But--!"_

"Never."

Click.

I sigh.

A beat.

I slowly pocket the communicator away.

I slowly re-grip the book.

I lean forward like a rabbi-ette to the Wailing Wall.

"This is worse than a 'married state'.. ….where in Azar's name was I--?"

_Vmm-Vmm-Vmm._

"Nnnngh_-Nnnngh!"_ Click. "**NO.**"

_"But friend! Today is Gorthmog! Might you want to join me in exquisitely feminine rituals of Glorkleberry juicing and---?"_

"Rewind and **relisten**!"

**CLICK.**

My eyes flicker a hot gray for a moment in time. Then… ….I slump back and slide to the floor till I'm sitting in an undignified manner on the public library floor. The light from the stained glass dances across my jeans'd lap as the ambiance of silence fills the gaps. And I feel—for once—a ringing distant and ever-permeating in the residual universe of my ear. _Is it fear? Expectation? An omen?_

Always.

_  
And it never fails._

_  
But why do I protest or complain?_

I just… ….

I just wait it out and exist.

Don't I… …mother?

_Was this what you meant when you let them teach me humility and patience?_

And the ever stoic resistance to evil? Even if that 'evil' is nothing ore than an irritation?

_What am I here in this library to get away from? Books are everywhere. Books are in my blood. It's not that the Titans are constantly interrupting me. I'm constantly interrupting the chance to be unto them the very least of what I was so insidiously born to be…_

So it is with a considerable lot more reserve that I calmly breathe and grab the communicator the next time it imminently—

_Vrmm-Vrmm-Vrmm._

Click.

"_Raven? Are you all right? Starfire said that you sounded like something was bothering you."_

"Robin, everything is bothering me. All. The. Time."

"Heh… …Is this the understatement of the year?"

I run a hand through my cold blue strands and sigh. "I don't know. I just… …don't know…."

"_Raven, we all need our alone time. Some more than others. God knows I do. I have a set of earplugs for every one of these masks I wear."_

"…. .. …," I blink into the dust. "… …you do?"

"_The next time you feel like having silence, then just—Be silent."_

"Uhm….."

"_Turn your Communicator off and don't respond."_

I bite my lip. "Erm…."

"_Is that understood?"_

"But Robin….," I drone. "… …how would I be able to respond in an emergency?"

"_Raven, if the Titans had to answer an emergency and you needed to know… … …You'd find out. Wouldn't you?"_

"… … …," slowly, my lips _do_ curve. "Mmm… ….You've been hanging around empaths too long."

"_Hardly. The cave where I come from is about as deadpan as it gets."_

"Heh."

"_Just turn it off, Raven. The rest of the day is yours. I promise you."_

"… … …You.. .. …pr-promise?"

"_Yes, Raven."_

"Okay…"

"_Enjoy your.. ….'reading time' or whatever you're doing. I'll keep a watch out on the rest of the team. It's what I do, after all. Leader and stuff."_

"R-Right…"

"_Robin out."_

**Click.**

"… .. …," I lean back with a sigh. I gaze up ceiling-ward. Relaxing….

'Reading time'…. …..and ordained from 'higher up'…. ….As in the trapeze 'higher up'…. … …

_This may be a good day off after all…._

"Uhm… … …E-Excuse me?"

I blink. I raise an eyebrow and look to my left. My body pales twice as much….

Over a dozen _young people_ with notepads and bright looks on their faces gaze down at me in more-or-less a single file line. The first of the bunch is a high schooler with a pen in her eagerly shaking grasp. "Are y-you really Raven?"

"… …uhm…."

"Raven of the Teen Titans?"

"… … …er…. . ….maybe?"

They all blush in one accord.

The girl holds out her notepad in two hands. "C-Could we have your autograph?"

I take a slow… … …slow… … .. … .. ….._slow_… .. … … … .. … …breath.

_Oh._

Yeah.

Them.


	87. Pink

﻿

"Heheeheheeeee! Tug-of-War! Tug-of-War! Heheeee!" I am giggling. _Giggling._ "Come on, B.B.! Hehe--Tug of Warrrrrr!"

Beast Boy is all-but-dragging me into the Tower's Main Room with both of his noodly green arms tugging at my wrist. "Nnnngh! Raven, quit it! We gotta get you back to normal n'stuff! Can't you--I dunno--_meditate_ yourself out of this or something?"

"Pffft!" I stick my tongue out, fold my arms in a pout, and give him an upturned nose. "Why are you bein' such a **spoil sport**? Meditation is for _dweebs_, B.B. Evvvvvil dweebs..." I grin wide with suspiciously thinning eyes. "_Dweebs... ...like that big herd of them **OVER THERE!"** _I point over his shoulder.

"H-Huh?.?.?" He spins around and looks.

I grab the bottom of his jumpshirt and hoist it up and over the front of his head from behind. _Fw-Fwump!_

"MMMMFFF!" He struggles and waves his arms around like a hooded zombie.

"Heeeheeeheeeheee!" I giggle and float around him, hugging my sore tummy as tears leak out of my 'laughing' eyes.

"Mmmmf---DUAAAH!" Beast Boy fights himself free from his own strait jacketing shirt. "R-Rae! Cut it out! I.. ...I-I'm **serious!"**

"Silly elf. Your earrrrrs are drooping! Heehee!" I leap up onto the kitchen counter and trapeze-artist-step across the edge like it's a balancing beam. "Droop! Droop! Droop! Droop! Droop! Drooooop! Hehe!"

"Ugh!" Beast Boy runs a hand over his emerald face and whirls around to face the dumb-struck Titans in attendance. "I can't make her stop.. ... ...s-stop.. .. ..._stop having fun!_ Dudes! You've gotta help me!"

"It's your own damn fault, B.B.," Cyborg folds his arms with a frown. "You went messin' around right when she was meditating!"

"All I did was throw a Frisbee at her! Ya know?.?.?" Beast Boy flails his arms. "'Raven! Catch!' That's simple enough, ain't it? I-I mean, you saw how she could stop a volleyball without moving a muscle before! And she was in _meditation_ **then**, r-right?"

"Hehe--Hey Beast Boy!" I perch on the edge of the kitchen counter, hackey-sack a salt-shaker into my hand, and toss it at him. "Tag! You're it!"

_Bonk!_

"OW!" Beast Boy rubs his throbbing head. "For the love of Dick Van Dyke, this is _so_ not working out--"

"Tag!" I toss the pepper shaker. "You're it **again!**"

_BONK!_

"OW!"

"Heheheheheeeeeeee!" I leap up and down, clapping my hands.

"Welllllll... ...," Cyborg clears his throat and tries to keep a straight face. "If you ask me, it seems like you interrupted Raven during a REALLLLLYIMPORTANT part of her meditation, little man."

"Yeah? You think?" Beast Boy cackles. He ducks momentarily to avoid a flying napkin stand. "Just _what_ did I crash in on, exactly? '_Ravenchop's Play-Along'?_" _BONK! (A coaster)_ "OW!.!.!" (_"He he heeee!")_

"You don't remember a damn thing, do you?" Cyborg points. "That one time we went into Raven's head?"

Beast Boy shudders. "Er.. ...y-yeah...?"

"She had all those different emotions, right?"

"Oh, right. Heh, I liked the green one..." He ducks--nothing...this time.

"Well, that's kinda what Raven does when she meditates."

"Does what?"

"Cycle through her emotions and stuff. Keeping house in a mental fashion."

"And it would appear as though you have unwittingly throttled her joyous fragmentation to the surface of her conscious exterior," Starfire exclaims with hands modestly folded. She takes one long look at me--and inevitably breaks forth into a happy giggle and smile of her own. "In all honesty, I find it both amusing and endearing."

"Heeheehee! Hey everyone! Guess who I am!" I whip off my blue robe, hunch over like a gargoyle, and stick two fingers up like 'ears' beneath the cowl-like garment now framing my hand. _"'I ammmmm the self afflicted, over-anal macho man who angsssssts in the nightttttt.'_ Heheheheeeeee_!" _

_Robin's cranial artery pulses. He glares over at Cyborg. "**How do we fix her?"**_

"Erm... ..." Cyborg sweatdrops.

"What is there to repair or not repair? Hehe!" Starfire hops up onto the counter with me. "Beloved friend! Allow me to perform an impression now!" She grabs my blue robe and wears it over her frame while half-kneeling to achieve my lower height. _"'Azarath to the Metrion of the Zinthos.. ... ...I am most emphatically surrounded by scary books and dead kittens that it constantly suppresses me into a fixed state of monotonous apathyyyy!'"_

"Hehehehe!" I giggle and point at her. "You look sooooooo stupidddddd!"

"Hehehehehe!"

"Hehehehe!" I grab Starfire's wrists. She grabs mine. We dance spinningly across the counter top.

Beast Boy's ears deflate and he blinks between normal green eyes and lifeless, gray pupils. "Okaaaaaay.. ... ...did I just swallow a gallon of opium, or is this--"

"It's really happening," Cyborg rubs the human part of his head. "And it's scaring the bejeezus out of me..."

"Right.. ...," Robin takes a breath and marches towards the elevator. "Well, I've seen enough."

"Man, ain't you going to make a suggestion or _something?_"

"How about letting Raven just--I dunno--run her course?" The Boy Wonder shrugs. "Heck, look at her! She's happy and free of inhibitions! That's all you ever _wished_ from her, isn't it, Beast Boy?"

"Erm... ...w-well...," the green elf adjusts his collar while sweating profusely.

"**Isn't it?"** Cyborg also glares.

Beast Boy looks at Starfire and I.

The Tamaranian girl is lying flat-out, chest first along the kitchen counter and I am literally standing on her back with my legs wobbling. "Everybody's gonnnnnne surrrrfiiiiiiing!"

"Hehe...'Splash!' 'Splash'!" Starfire emits.

"Hehehehe!"

Beast Boy shudders. "_IamsoscaredIamsoscaredIamsoscared..."_

Robin manages a chuckle. Cyborg and Beast Boy glance curiously at him. The Boy Wonder raises his gloved hands: "Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Be right back..." He descends in the elevator.

"Make it quick, dawg! I don't know how much more of this the equilibrium of the universe can take!"

"HEY CYBORG!" I leap off of the counter (and Starfire) and stop in front of him in a leotard-gymnast, mid-hover pose. "GUESS WHAT?"

"Erm.. ...wh-what?"

"CHICKEN BUTT! Hehehehehehe!" I grab my tummy again, giggling. I then proceed to 'backstroke' through the air of the Main Room, humming and then 'spitting out' make-believe fountains of water. "Hmmmm...hmmm-hmmm_-hmmmm!"_

"Heeee," Starfire sits on the edge of the counter with my robe in her lap. She cups her hands together along the side of her head. "Does she not appear so lively and glorious?"

"Uh.. ...Yeah. If you take to schizophrenia as a way of 'happiness'," Beast Boy shivers.

"Ohhhh man," Cyborg helplessly grins. "The stories this is going to make."

"Hehe... ...Y-Yeah...," Beast Boy nervously manages a smirk. "I-I guess that's going to be--Oh wait." His eyes grow as wide as saucers. "How bad is she going to kill me?"

"Uhhh... ...It depends," Cyborg shrugs. "She _is_ still 'Raven' right now, ya know. It's not like she _isn't here_ or something."

"Hey! Where'd my shadow go?" I mount a dormant ceiling fan upside downlike it's the crow's nest and 'peer' across the 'horizon'. "I'm full of happy thoughts and he's not sewn onto me!"

"You _sure_ she's here right now, dude?" Beast Boy whimpers.

"Hey Rae!" Cyborg calls upwards. "You there?"

_"Hey Cy! Your shoelaces untied?"_

"H-Huh?" He glances down. "But I don't have any shoelaces--Wait--"

_Thwisssh-BONK!_ A ceiling blade fan hits him.

"OW!" Cyborg rubs his head. "Girl, how'd you do that?.?.?"

"Hehehehehehe!" Starfire all but keels over, giggling. "This is so wondrously absurd!"

"STARFIRE!" I grin wide and soar down in her face. _SHOOOOP!_ Levitating: "I need to borrow ALLLLLL of the pink shoes, skirts, blouses, dresses, and underwear you've got!"

"Eeep...," Starfire suddenly blushes. "Even m-my _lingerings_?"

"We are going OUT TONIGHT!" I stand like a Spanish Conquistador with my leg propped up on a kitchen stool and point into the sky. "Two girls who can FLOAT! We'd pick up guys and they'd _HAVE_ to go out with us or else we'd drop them into the City Septic Depository!"

"Whoah-Whoah-Whoah.. ...W-Wait!" Cyborg chuckles and walks over. "'Raven', I thought you hated going out on dates with guys?"

"Who said we'd be dating **the guys?**" I wink and hook an arm around Starfire.

Starfire blinks... ...then sweatdrops with her eyes shut. "Eh heh heh heh heh..."

_"Sh-She's kidding, right?"_ Beast Boy whispers.

"B.B.! THINK FAST!" I grab Starfire and toss her at him.

H-Huh?--_WAAAAAAIEEEE!"_

"DAAAH!" T_H-THWUMP!_

Tamaranian and Elf go sprawling all over the distant couch. Tangled...

"Hehehe!" I giggle and all but fall off the stool. "Way to catch a girl, Beast Boy!"

"All right now, Strawberry Shortcake...," Cyborg smirks and rests a gentle--but restraining hand on my shoulder. "You're getting close to Defcon 2 on the Giddy Scale--"

"Nuts to you!" I stick my tongue out and slap my fingers into the nape of his neck.

_Th-Thunk!_

Cyborg gasps from the contact with his hidden switch as--_Whurrrr-Ch-Chtung!_ The metal half of his head (red eye included) pops off.

_Sn-Snatch!_ I grab it and leap off the stool. "I got your brain pan! I got your brain pan!"

"H-Hey!" Cyborg blushes as he clamps two hands over his half-a-head. "My skull!"

"Hehehehe!"

"Gimme back my skull!"

"Nuh-uhhhh!" I wear the blue-and-silver metal headplate on my _bluer _head and run around the room with arms out like an airplane. "Plllbllbllbllbllblbllbbbb! Heehehehe!"

Cyborg chases me. "Dang it all! Come back!"

Starfire and Beast Boy barely manage to disentangle themselves in time to gaze upon the most recent debacle.. ... ...and helplessly laugh...

Then with a firm '_swish'_ sound, Robin emerges once more into the Main Room. "All right, All right.. ...Pilot to Bombadier, we're heading home..." He brandishes a tiny device in his hand with a trigger and a needle. "Think you can signal the airplane over here, Cyborg?"

"Man, she's got my skull! Tell her to stop messing with my head!"

"Why? I never did before."

"Hehehehe--Good one, Robin!"

"Shut up, Beast Boy. You're in trouble, remember?"

"Erp..."

_"Plblblblbbbb! Hee hee hee!"_ I 'fly' around the room and settle in the center, twirling Cyborg's skull plate like a top hat and grinning with a vengeance. "And for my next trick--Instant oatmeal! Beast Boy! Fetch me a glass of milk and a loaf of bread!"

"Starfire," Robin glances across the room with a calm curve to his lips. "If you'd may..."

"Gladly, Robin," she gently smiles and flies over to where she grips me from behind. "Calm yourself, Raven--"

"HEY! Hehehe!" I giggle and struggle with her. "No fair! Sending a Tamaranian to do a caped crusader's job!"

"Do kindly find that 'center' that so alleviates you of your mental confusion!"

"Pffft! Centers are for cancer patients! Heheheheeee! Hey! _Hey!_ Guess who in here has never looked a gift horse in the--"

_Snkkkt!_ Robin's device pricks me in the side and emanates a hiss as it briefly injects me with a serum.

"Owwwwwwwieeeeee," I make a face and stick my tongue out at Robin. "Meanie! No Valentine's Card for you!"

"The heck does th-that mean?" Beast Boy scratches his head.

"It means that I gave her the tranquilizer in the nick of time," Robin says, stepping back from Starfire and I. "For her sake, most of all."

"Dude, a _tranquilizer_? What does she look like, a moose?"

"Fine, a _sedative_," Robin gestures. "I've used it on Raven before per her request the first time 'rage' got loose..."

_Pop-CHTUNK!_ Cyborg reattaches his skull and walks up. "Yo, you mean there was a time _before_ Beast Boy and I got zapped through her mirror that Raven's emotions went out of control?"

Robin shrugs. "It's best not to make a big deal about it. Raven's just like any other person--only when she has her brief episodes of stress, her powers have nothing to restrain them, and as such we have a little--well--_glitch_ now and then."

"Er.. ...yeah..."

"That's why she's constantly having to meditate and harness her emotions in fine tuning with her abilities without the advent of Frisbee tossing," the Boy Wonder says. "What, were you all born yesterday?"

"It seems to be working on her," Beast Boy points.

"Friend Raven...," Starfire leans her head over and speaks gently into my ear. "How are you feeling?"

"Mmmm.. ...I...hehehe.. ...I-I...," my violet eyes narrow and narrow. My smile turns into a drunken grin. "... ...hehe.. ... ..so.. ..._sooo_ going out tonight.. .. ... ...and b-being girlie..."

"Hehe... ...Maybe another time, dearest companion. Maybe another time..."

"Heh," Beast Boy rolls his eyes. "Maybe _not_..."

"Hmmmm...nngh...," I fall back lazily into Starfire's support as the world turns foggier and darker. A liquid motion returns to things. ".. ... ...so.. ... ..s-so tyred.. ..."

Cyborg leans in. "Rae? Raven?.?.? Can you tell what's happened now, Raven?"

"Nnnngh...," my smile fades but I'm far too submerged in exhaustion to form a frown in its place. ".. ... ...everyone.. .. ...everyone... ...?"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Raven?"

"What is it, Raven?"

My eyes blink.. ...then close shut as I drift back.. ... ..back.. ... ... .. ..back...

".. ... ..r-remind me... ... ...**remind me.. ...to k-kill.. ...B-Beast Boy..."**

"Ulp!" the changeling hugs himself and shrinks into the corner of the room in mouse form. _"Hoo boy. Here we go."_

"Uh...I'm not sure I can let you get away with killing our resident metamorph, Raven," Robin smirks.

"Nnngh.. ...f-fine.. ... ...," my head starts to nod as I murmur and drone away: ".. ...th-then s-somebody give me.. .. ...a cheese grater when I w-wake up.. ..."

Cyborg smirks. "What for?"

".. ...it has.. .. .. ...a d-date.. .. ... ..w-with Beast Boy's scrotum. ... .. ...nnngh..." And I'm asleep.

Starfire bites her lip. "Friends, I dare say we must endeavor to give poor Raven the longest duration of sleep she can afford."

"I second that and stuff," Cyborg reaches in. "Here, I'll carry her to her room."

"And I shall assist you, Cyborg."

"Right... ..," Robin nods. "And as for now..." He turns with an eyemasked glare. "Beast Boy---?" He blinks.

There's an elf-shaped hole formed in the door to the descending stairwell.

"Oh right... ...I guess so."


	88. Drain

﻿

"There is an abandoned theatre not too far from here," I murmur as we hurry down the street. "When it used to still be in operation, that was where the Puppet King—_or he who was once the Puppet King—_performed his hypnotizing show. Somehow I have a hunch that that's where he's got Robin, Beast Boy, and Cyborg…"

"Then that is where we are likely to locate our transmogrified male companions?"

"Azar-Willing, Starfire. There's no telling what the Puppet King may have done to them—"

"Then we must make haste!" A petite figure in a blue robe bounds past me and eagerly grabs my hand. "Come, friend Raven! Allow me to—"

"Starfire, _don't!"_ I snap, anchoring her to me. "The last time you tried to levitate us, you nearly turned us into concrete cereal, **remember?"**

Starfire turns around and looks.. … .._looks **up** at me_. For she has my eyes and my skin and my hands. In essence, she has my body, and I—

I toss yet another annoying lock of red hair out of my green eyes, grit teeth that aren't mine, and utter: "You and I still aren't honed in on each other's powers. Let's not hurt ourselves while we are ahead."

"But… …," her violet eyes (my violet eyes) glisten in an emotional sensitivity that the demonic vessel is not used to. "Did we not just spend an excessive amount of time dutifully relating to each other the liberating truth of each other's origins and--?"

"I-I'm just saying… …," I pause. I shift about nervously. _I'm really… …really not used to being this **tall**…._

_Or **exposed**.. …doesn't Starfire at least believe in **pants**?_

"I'd rather **I** do the flying for both of us here on out," I finally manage.

She gasps and hops up and down with joyous applause, her hood ridiculously bouncing atop her blue head. "Truly? Truly? Then you are most exceedingly willing to engage in a thought of happiness and absolute joy?"

"Ergh.. ….," I bite my lip and push us on ahead down an alleyway. "One th-thing at a time. Let's just use our legs to get there…."

"But will we make it in time?"

A green pulsing alights my amber forehead. "We'll _have_ to…."

"Ohhhh…," Starfire cups her hands in my body and looks like a true damsel in distress. Howbeit, not _our_ distress. _Or maybe it is, I don't know anymore._ "Mmmmm….ohhhh…."

I sigh. "Will you please _quit that whining noise?"_

"But it is so easy to do in this body!"

"…. … …. …**excuse** me?"

"I am feeling far more small and helpless in your shorter and frailer frame, Raven. It is enough to worry about our endangered companions in the body of a Tamaranian Warrioress, but in this form—"

"Are you saying I'm a weakling?"

"Negative! Nothing of the sort!" Her violet eyes glow wide in haunting jubilation. "If you must know, Raven, I am intensely pleased to be having your body!"

"Nnnngh….," I shudder.

"Ermm—Did I say something amiss?"

I can't help it. My lips curve somewhat. _In this body, I suppose I can let it slip some…. …._

"You never say the wrong things Starfire. Just…. ….sometimes the things you say.. … .."

"Yes?"

I shake my redhead. "Never mind…."

"What? What?" She awkwardly levitates until she is hovering right in front of me. "I am curious beyond measure to know now!"

"I've learned to give you the benefit of the doubt—not to mention _patience_, Starfire. Your adaptation to this planet is… .. …turning out to be a far more positive a thing than I initially expected."

"How so?"

"Well, when we all first met you.. …," I drone. "… …you weren't exactly frolicking in the park like you ramble on about doing now…."

Her pale cheeks flush slightly. "Erm… .. …Indeed, Raven. When you found me in the captivity of the Gordanian enslavers, I was most overcome with righteous fury. So much fury, that it was positively blinding."

"I'd say. Half of Downtown felt the brunt of your bad mood."

"Yes, that memory of that unfortunately violent escapade has not left my mind… …." She twiddles her thumbs… …_my thumbs. Azar above! Do I really look that dainty? Nah, only when 'piloted' by Starfire, I suppose… …._ "From what I've learned from you tonight, I am tempted to believe that Azarathians and Tamaranians possess opinions concerning passion that exist on far poles of the conceptual sphere."

"Do aliens have a thing for understatement?" I drone.

"I cannot help it, friend Raven. My people are a people of intense, burning emotion! Do you not feel the righteous fury inside your vessels right now as we embark upon rescue of our maltreated companions?"

"Er…… …w-well…."

"The fire?" Starfire smiles with a mixed shyness and eagerness. "Do you not feel it--?"

"I… ….I-I feel _something_… …," I murmur, shifting about as I walk all of the sudden. "… .. ..s-something _wyrd… …"_

She stops with such a suddenness in obstruction of my marching path that it almost frightens me. "H-Huh? My friend, cease and desist your movement for just a moment to define this awkward sensation suddenly accosting you!"

"Uhhh.. … …Starfire? What's the big deal?"

"Raven, simply do me a favor and… .. …stand upright…."

I do so, fidgeting in _her body_.

"… …does the same peculiar sensation trouble you?"

I suddenly make a creeped-out face. "Er… … ..y-yeah… ….Yikes, what _is this?"_

"Is it a deeply internal sensation?"

"Erm… .. …"

"Indicative of a ticklish feeling?"

"T-Ticklish?"

"Mmmmhmm…," she nods, and yet with a hesitancy she pointedly asks: "A 'ticklishness' that in all its subtleness is simultaneously painful, pleasurable, and motivating you to eat copious amounts of federlbrorg juice?"

"_Federlbrorg juice?"_

"Erm, does y-your tongue feel dry?"

"Pfft—Y-Yes… …Erm….yes…. ..it does," I make a face. Then—_if the cosmos are my witness_—I feel the 'ticklishness' **_spike_**. "Whoah! H-Hello!" I hug myself and tremble, finding myself at a loss for saliva. ".. … ..wh-where did _that_ come from?"

"Ohhhh.. ….V'raat siul nembaar de X'Hal….," Starfire murmurs and wrings her little hands together. "Timing has been most harrowing as of late…."

"H-Huh?"

"Come, Raven…," she grabs my hand gently—urgently. "We must find a proper resting facility."

"Wait wait wait!" I pull my hand free and gesture madly between wincing. "Just what exactly is happening to me… …. …er.. .. …t-to you… .. …to me inside of you?"

"Erm… . ….," she blushes a violent red against the pale skin. "It would appear the t-time has come to drain my grebnaks."

My green eyes twitch. "My grebnaks?"

"Affirmative….," she tugs me down the alley.

"B-B-But where in the _heck_ are my 'grebnaks'?"

"Y-You sh-shall find out s-soon enough… …."

I moan and slump in my walk, fountains of red hair dangling before my 'alien' skull. "Somehow, Starfire, when I agreed to find out as much about you tonight as I could…. … …this was _not_ what I had in mind…."


	89. Proud

﻿

"Hold still," I say as I kneel in front of him and gently stretch his scalded arm out. "I need you to stay calm and keep from moving as I attempt to heal the burn…."

Beast Boy winces, his green limb twitching ever so slightly in my grasp. "Nnngh… …I-I seriously can't believe Dr. Light gave us such a beating a that time…."

"Believe it," I drone. I briefly murmur a magical chant under my breath and meditatively flex my fingers as I cover Beast Boy's arm from wrist to elbow with a faint, black aura. "Dr. Light is anything _but_ the chump of a robber we used to face. I'm surprised he didn't burn you to a crisp out there."

"Yeah, well—" Beast Boy winces again. "H-He almost did…." We are seated on a wing of the T-Ship parked… …somewhere. _I swear, we've gotten so very lost on this 'Titan Induction' trek Robin's sent us on. I could have sworn we were in Russia last week, the North Pole the second--_ "You think Robin and Cy will be all right?" Beast Boy asks, interrupting my momentary ponderings.

I continue administering to his arm as I reply: "Most certainly. They know what they're doing… …even if they're idiots."

"Hehehe…," Beast Boy sighs. "_Safe_ idiots…."

"They've got plenty of reason to be cautious," I say. "The only reason Dr. Light made his comeback so soon after the incident at the North Pole is that he had _help_. Undoubtedly assistance from the Brain and his Brotherood. Robin and Cyborg are officially in detective mode, and _you_…." I stroke a finger across his relatively 'clean' arm and move it back towards his chest. "…..are in a lot better shape than you were a few seconds ago, if I do say so myself…"

"Hmmm….," Beast Boy smiles in such a fashion that the slightest glinting hint of an underbite shows under his left lip. "Guess if I didn't have _you_ around, Rae, I'd really be suffering for all my bad scrapes…"

"As much as I really…._really_ should be scolding you right now….I digress," I stand up and pull the hood over my blue head. I shuffle around the far end of the parked T-Ship towards where a few supply crates full of rations await. "You don't nearly get into the same 'bad scrapes' that you used to, Beast Boy…."

"I-I don't?" He blinks curiously at me through the corner of his emerald eyes.

I slowly shake my head and rummage through the rations for…

Tea… ….Tea… ….Tea(!)(!)(!)…..

"There was a time….," I mutter with the slightest touch of a smile appearing and fading in a blink. "…when you squealed and sobbed from a single one of Cyborg's routine vaccinations."

"How _couldn't_ I squeal?.?.?" He…_squeals._ "Those things hurt! They were electrified and stuff! I tell you what—a check up with Cyborg is like a visit to Dr. Frankenstein!"

"Actually, any 'electrical' iconography associated whatsoever with Dr. Frankenstein is superficially associated only with the cinema—"

"Yea, Yes, I _KNOW_," Beast Boy rolls his eyes. "You've only given me that rant a MILLION times….."

"Hmmm ….. ….I suppose I wanted to teach somebody the truth to Mary Shelley."

"Yeah… …. …"

"… …. … ….," I finish rummaging and settle on a juice box. _Juice Box. How 'kindergarten'. Heh…..good thing Cyborg's not here to see me drinking and call me—_

"I'm sorry, Raven…."

"… … …?" I turn. I crane my neck. "Beast Boy….. …?"

He isn't looking at me. He hugs the far end of his shoulder with his opposite arm. _It's his good shoulder._ He takes a deep breath and repeats in all solemnity: "I-I really mean it… … ….I'm sorry….."

"… … …," I lean my head to the side. "For what?"

He looks up at me. Thin eyes. No smile. Just: "For everything I'd ever done to—ya know—tease and annoy you. Even the early days when—heh—I maybe even _flirted_ with you… …" He runs a hand through his green hair and adds: "And being all cuddly and lovey-dovey with Terra right in your face was probably not very polite either."

"…. … … ….you've changed, Beast Boy…."

It's his turn to blink and crane his neck curiously. "Hmmm?"

I nod. Juice Box in grasp, I shuffle around the T-Ship again. "You have. After all the battles with Slade… …the battle for the Doom Patrol.. … ..the rise of the Brotherhood… .. …You have most definitely _changed_, Beast Boy…."

"For the better, or—"

"You're less **annoying**," I punch the little plastic straw in and sit on the wing again. "Dare I say, you're almost rivaling Robin in your leadership skills."

"Heh….Me? A _leader?_" Beast Boy folds his arms. "You sure somebody didn't just slip some beer into that juice box or something?"

"I haven't taken a sip yet."

"Y-You really think I've changed?"

"**Yes**, Beast Boy… ….It's inevitable. If we live, we change. And if we die, then that's a pretty fair _change_ in and of itself."

He shudders. "Gotta leave it to you and the way you bluntly define things, Rae…."

"I try not to make a show of that habit.. … …"

"S-So….," he shifts nervously where he sits. "… .. ..Y-You do forgive me?"

I roll my violet eyes. "Beast Boy, what was my answer to you the last time you made the earth-shattering 'forgive me for everything' apology back when my father was terrorizing the earthly realm?"

"Erm… ….'quit it'?"

"… … …did I really say that?"

"Erm… …heh-heh….Yeah."

"Mmm….," I sip from my juice box and let my legs dangle. "… ….I guess some things _don't_ change," I drone.

"Hehehehehehehe…."

I run a hand through my blue bangs, sport a curve…. …..and sip.

Proud?

Proud.


	90. Port

﻿

I am sleeping.

I am always sleeping.

_Or… …?_

"Nnngh.. …," I turn over in bed.

…_I am always waking…._

I stir.

I sit up some, my violet eyes blinking.

Blinking into the _blackness._

The blackness of the bedroom and the curtained window beyond.

_Ah, thank Azar._

It's still plenty of.. …non-daylight left…..'It's still plenty of left'?.?.?

In spite of how drowsy I am, I manage a curve to my lips as I spelunk back under the warm covers like an earthly embrace and…

Drift.. ….

_Drift… … …._

_Mmmm—Why have I been sleeping so well lately?_

_  
Is it because of the good fight I put forth?_

Did I meditate **too** much?—Is that even possible?

_Or—Wait.. …Dreams? Did I dream? Do I dream?_

About what?

It had to have been **good**, _whatever it was._

Because… …."Mmmm…."

I supremely snooze away.

Breathing in cadence to the breath I hear across the room.

My violet eyes fly wide open.

_Breath I hear across the room?_

F-Fwoosh! I raise a hand of sharp, billowing telekinesis and aim the black, shadowy talons towards the opposite side of the room.

**"Who's there?"** I glare as much as my drowsy eyes—now throttled 'awake'—can manage. **"Show yourself!"**

But….

But the breathing continues.

And it continues lightly.

As if—_A sleeping?_

".. … …" I bite my lip.

I crawl over to the edge of my bed like some toddler.

I slowly.. …_pensively_ peer over the mattress.

And I blink.

There's a boy—A dark-haired boy lying in the center of my floor. On the carpet. Half tangled in a dark-red sheet.

I blink.. …and my joints freeze.

… …_wait a minute--_

"R-Robin?" I murmur aloud.

I look at his dormant, near-ragdoll figure.

He's lying in the center of my room, all right.

_**Robin**.. …. …in the **center**.. … ..of my **room**…._

_A night._

While I am sleeping a few yards away….—

_Why does this strike me as both peculiar and **frightening** all the same?_

_Certainly not something a certain Tamaranian needs to know—Wait._

What **is** Robin doing on the floor anyhow?

And then I realize--

Robin's clad in a simple t-shirt and boxers. His hair is a sleep-worn mess. His sheet is most certainly from his own bed, because nobody else in the Tower has—

I gasp.

Violet eyes wide.

_I didn't.. ..I couldn't have… …_

I bite my lip and fold my hands over my mouth.

… _.. I?_

I glance back at the head of my bed.

I shift about nervously.

_I… …I… …_

I glance up at the ceiling.

_I teleported him **THROUGH** the Tower—to here!_

_  
B-But how?_

And then..

Then it hits me.

And as it does, my cheeks turn a violent red.

_Yes… …._

I did have a 'dream' tonight.. ….

I most **certainly** had a very g-… …well.. … …I **had a dream** tonight, and now--

I gasp.

"Sweet Azar… …"

I leap out of bed, fumbling with the dark numbness.

"Okay… ..Okay….," I pace back and forth within the space of an invisible phone booth perpetually planted aside my bed. Barefoot and shaking my hands nervously-girlishly like they are on fire. "OkayOkayOkay—Think. This is just.. … …N-Nobody _needs_ to _handle this_ but you, R-Raven…."

I take a shuddering breath. I look over to Robin.

"I'll just.. … …I-I'll just l-levitate him back into his room, and it'll be like nothing ever happened and my powers didn't go bizerk overnight and—"

I clench my fists. I breathe in deeply.

Yeah.. …

"Yeah… …th-that's what I'll do.. …," I march over to him and then tip-toe as I murmur to myself: "Now to see about not waking hi—DAH! Nnngh!" I suddenly flinch and cover my face, hobbling away from him.

Shoot—He doesn't sleep with his eyemask on!

_  
How am I going to do this without exploiting him?_

I blink.. …blink…

_Or better yet, without **waking** him?_

I look left. I look right. I glide over to the bookcase. I pull out an old manuscrypt. I flip through its pages. I scan down a page. I find a selection. I take a deep breath, form a meditative pose with my fingers, and chant: "Peels ni yats d'na peel's ot-og!" On the last word, I gesture towards Robin.

_Fl-Flash!_ A magical aura descends upon his cranium.. ..then dissipates into his nervous system. Robin takes a deep breath, turns over in his sleep, and slumbers away.. …_Down for the count._

_Fwp!_ I shut the book with a sigh and utter aloud in confidence: "Thank you, Zatanna…." I levitate the book away and glide back to Robin's slumbering side. "Now.. … ..just to get him back to his room.. …_without raising a ruckus—I-I mean, what's to hide, except--?_" I pause. I blink and think back to my own slumbering landscape and…

I clear my throat, cheeks red.

_Azar above—Mother give me strength to make it through till I'm no longer a teenager…._

I rush over to my vanity. I slide a drawer open. I fumble.. …fumble.. .. …fumble through an assortment of odds and ends. Rattling. Shuffling—_"H-Here…."_

I pull out a pair of large sunglasses I bought months ago without much of a cognitive thought.

"_Heh.. .. …and to think I once felt I'd actually see enough sun to **use** these…."_

I pad-pad-pad over across the carpet, kneel, and slide the glasses over the doubly-slumbering Robin.

"Th-There.. … …th-that should hide your eyes," I drift back. Stare. And blink. "… .. … …"

The glasses are ridiculously huge on the Boy Wonder's face. He somewhat resembles a fashionable college girl from the 70s. _Or so I know from pictures._

"… .. … ..right.. .. …to your room, you go.. …"

I stand up, chant meditatively, and lift Robin up from the floor. He lies—_silently snoring_—as if asleep on an invisible cot floating through thin air. His legs dangle and his head lulls—as if the tongue could hang out any second and drool all over those large lenses covering his eyes and framed by his cowlicked hair.

I try not to wince.. … …

I walk towards the door with Robin tethered to my telekinetically flexing hand—then pause—gripe—shuffle swiftly over across the room—slide some slippers onto my feet—and then embark through the door and across the cold, cold hallways of the night shrouded Tower with Robin in tow.

…

…

…

…

It is difficult traversing these corridors and maintaining Robin's floating figure the whole time. For some righteous reason, I cannot bear to so much as _touch_ him. I simply float him a few feet alongside and behind me—so that I can glance down hallway and stairway corridors and check and see if there are any nocturnal Titans out and about.

_If anyone sees me.. .. …sees **us**.. .. .._

I could not bear to exist.  


_Sorry, mother—but… .._

I just could **not** bear to exist.

I 'carry' Robin up.. …up.. …up the levels of the Tower. Towards his lofty room. Mentally, I growl about why the Boy Wonder ever had to live so high up from the floor. But.. … …

_Boys will be birds._

I sigh and shake my head as I reach closer and closer to his dwelling.

Exhausted with this whole debacle.

_Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way.. .. …_

Maybe I should have just woken him up…. …

Told him the truth, then helped him to his room.

He would certainly understand, wouldn't he?

I bite my lip.

The problem is. .. ..

_I'm not entirely sure if **I** understand this.. …_

_Just a few steps—for the love of all that is psuedo-holy—only a few steps.. .. ._

I walk up to the door.

I let out a breath of relief.

"_F-Finally. That took forever.. .. .."_ For a moment, I glare my violet eyes confusedly at the wall. _".. .. ..strange.. … .I don't remember the door console being on **that** side of the frame.. .. .."_

I shrug it off.

I press the console.

_Schwissh!_

The door opens to a pitch-black bedroom.

I walk in reverse, long nightgown swishing.

I slowly 'tow' Robin's floating figure in.

He stirs somewhat and murmurs something unintelligible.

I wince---pause—wait it out—and breathe a little easier as he quiets himself back into slumber.

I carefully pivot him about and approach the bed.

Hmmmm…. …looks like Robin's redecorated.

_He took out his computer desk. He probably put it into his work worm downstairs._

But—**sheesh**—he could stand to at least make his bed for once. There's a whole pile of stuff lying on the far side of it.

Boys.. … .

I gently lower him on the smooth end of the bed. I pull a sheet over him. I slowly. … ..slowly.. .. ..back away…

Robin snores mutely, turning over and surrendering into the recesses of the bed.

I breathe with relief.

_Whew.. …_

Okay.. …O-Okay.. …

Exit time.. … .

I rush out into the hallway, blur my hands to the console, and shut the door.

_Schwisssh!_

And I'm free.

My return to the downstairs bedroom of mine is something wrought with lethargy and a copious amount of yaws and eyelid-rubbing.

"Nnngh.. …from now on.. … ..every shower I take before bed is _cold_.. … .."

I know that I will break that promise.

But that doesn't keep me from expediently reentering my room and making a bee-line for the bed. I kick my slippers off, slide under the covers, and psuedo-awake from the terrible dream I just had.

….

---

…

The next morning… .. …

…

---

…

I'm sitting in the kitchen of the Main Room at the time.

Enjoying tea and a book.

When---

Schwissh!

"Robin! But there is nothing to be ashamed about! I am quite honored in all respects, I only wish—"

"Nnnngh—I don't want to talk about it, Starfire! I just want to eat breakfast, take a shower, slap myself silly for a few seconds and then try and figure out just _what the HELL happened!"_

"Please, do not berate yourself! You need not be ashamed to admit that you needed companionship—"

"But Starfire, that isn't it!"

"Why, whatever would have possessed you to come into bed with me?"

_"PLLLBBBTTTT!"_ I cough, hack, and drop my teacup onto the counter before covering my mouth with violet eyes exploding wide. I can barely hear them behind me under the sheer thunder of my eardrums throbbing.. ….throbbing.. … ..throbbing…

"I.. …I-I don't know—_Starfire_, I went to bed last night **in my own room!** I swear, this is all a crazy-ass misunderstanding! I never meant to—"

"Oh! Now the senses of it are approaching full clarity to me! Hehehe—Has not Cyborg explained that you have a most terrible ordeal with Terran sleepwalking?"

"I—_What? **No!** _No-No-No! That's not it!"

"Hehehe.. …I had verily assumed that whatever brought you into my room was purely an act of subconscious. Hence, I hold no grudge against you…"

".. …th-that can't be it…"

"As a matter of fact, after waking up to discover you, it was absolutely heavenly to just watch you in mid-slumber—"

"Wait—You _watched me_, Starfire? And just let me lie there?"

"Hehehe—"

"Why didn't you wake me up, for crying out loud?"

"Alas, Robin! I tried! But you were far too submerged in slumber for even a loud exclamation to awaken you! It was like you were under a spell of blessed tranquility itself!"

_"I can't believe this is happening to me.. …"_

"Hehe…Would it not be fair for me to pay your bedroom the same respect upon this eveni—"

"NO! Starfire… .._Please_.. .. ..I have to figure this all out. I just—"

"But allow us to figure it out _together_, dearest Robin!"

"NOT NOW! Unngh..I just—I just need **_space_**!"

"Harumph! You are always needing the _space!_ Were you so desirous of the 'space' last night, _chlorbag?_" FWOOOSH!

"God in holy-heaven… …I just KNOW she did something with my eyemask too… …," Robin grumbles as he walks over and leans against the counter. Frazzled. Pale. Framed with huge lenses bug-eyeing his face. "I've never felt so stupid and humiliated in my life.. .. …_Did I start sleep-walking again?"_

"Nnngh—Raven, you wouldn't GUESS what happened to me this morning. I---……_Raven?"_

I am nose-deep in my book. Hunched over at the kitchen counter. Still as stone.

"… .. …._whatever_," Robin tosses his arms and marches off. "Lousy start to a lousy day.. .. …"

I remain frozen their for a good hour or two.

Sometime during the process, I realized I had poured tea all over my lower body when I dropped my cup.

In hindsight.. … .._that was probably a good thing…._


	91. Blood

﻿

Mother

Your blood

It's spilling all over the temple floor.

Mother.

Your blood.

It's sinking into my toes as I am sinking into it.

Mother.

Flesh like ribbons.

Strung all over the antlers atop his forehead.

His laughter always.

In the cave of my mind.

This gemstone'd insect that burst out of your chest without asking.

And now your womb is an inside-out balloon full of crimson things.

Rivers and streamers of crimson things.

Mother.

Your blood.

It's everywhere and everywhere that it stains the ivory gown.

That you gave me.

And as much as I strip of these linens and skin and skin and skin…

I can't peel away the scent of you.

Pinched with sulfuric ash and obsidian.

The prayer candles and the meditation tables.

They all sing scarlet in the bubbling shadow of you, mother….

Mother….

Your blood.

It keeps chasing me.

Like a thorn-strung placenta tethering me home, home, home…

Along the steel-toothed gape of his jaws…

Aflame.

Mother.

I can't get it out of my hair.

I can't dig it out of my flesh.

I can't scrape it off my teeth.

I can't….

…..bleed for it is all bled out and….

…alone with the dust-laden vessels echoing…

… ….the four-eyed banshee shriek in my ear drums.

Mother.

Tell me where I'm supposed to die.

Tell me where I'm supposed to die.

Tell me where I'm supposed to die.

Tell me where I'm supposed to die too.


	92. Purr

﻿

"And…well….he purrs… … …he purrs like a kitten…."

I pause in the midst of typing to sigh and run a hand over my tyred, pale face. "Do I _really_ need to be hearing about THIS of all details?"

"Hmmmm….," Terra smiles and leans against the back of my chair, staring over my shoulder at the Titans' Computer screen as we 'mutually perform research' on the latest crime spree. "I've just gotta tell _someone_, Rae…."

"DON'T call me 'Rae'…," I mutter.

"Awww.. …but aren't I your friend?"

"Well—"

"For goodness sake, Raven! At least admit that I'm your _teammate!_" Terra giggles. "All the others call me 'little rocker'! So I call them 'Cy', 'Robbie', 'Star', and 'B.B.'. Can't I call you 'Rae' too?"

"My name… .. …is _Raven_." I type loudly as an artery pulses in my forehead. "And Raven is most assuredly _different_ than bleakly 'Rae'."

"Then how come you let all the others call you that?"

"I never once 'let them' call me that. I merely wore myself trying to telekinetically strangle each of them one after another."

"Heh.. ….somehow I'm almost willing to believe that."

"Good," I type and type. "Take an example."

Silence…

I go through files, files, files….

"Anyways, so yeah—Beast Boy purrs when he's asleep and I'm _cuddddddling himmmm-_hehehehe!"

I all but collapse out of my computer chair. "Terra, could we focus a little less on yours and Beast Boy's highly _questionable_ physical relationship and a little bit _more_ on Mumbo Jumbo's latest criminal exploits?"

Terra tosses a blonde fountain of hair and rolls her blue eyes. "Yeesh! What's so hard about catching that guy? The evidence he leaves behind breeds like rabbits—No pun intended."

"Naturally."

"So you're telling me you've never heard Beast Boy _purr_ before?"

"I'm telling you that you have five seconds to get back to the important topic at hand before I send your twig body flying back to your cave—this time without a flashlight."

"Hehehe—Hey, that was a pretty good threat!"

"Four…."

"Oh come on, Rae!"

"Three—…_Don't call me 'Rae'!_"

"Hehehe—And his elf ears twitch too!"

"Nnnngh…," I rub my forehead, swivel about in the chair, and stare boredly up at Terra with my hands in my lap. "Okay… …fine… …_get it out of your system."_

She shrugs. "That's it."

"… … .. … ….," I blink. "That's it?"

"Mmm-Yeah. Guess so."

"Purring and twitching pointed ears?"

"Hehehe…Uh huh…"

"…. .. … …. …okay then… … …'wowie'… … ..," I swivel back to the computer. I sigh. I flex my fingers. I start typing again. "So, back to business, if we follow the latest string of magic shop burglaries—"

"Oh! And his leg kicks too! Hehehe—Like a _wil bunny rabbbbbbit!"_

Th-Thump! I all but collapse over the keyboard and speak with muffled words into the pale palms of my hands. _"Mmmmf—Mmmmf-Mmmfmmmffffff….."_

"Er…--Huh?"

I lean my chin tyredly in my hands. "How can someone like you who could find more productive time visiting an Azar-forsaken **buffet** twenty-four-seven find herself so enamored with such an encapsulation of banality that is Beast Boy?"

"Well, Rae….," she folds her arms and upturns her nose in such a 'cute' way as to elicit a smile. It makes me want to clitoridectomize her. "…if you took the time to get to know him as closely as I have, you'd learn to appreciate the lovingly absurd things in life."

"I am quite grateful for my abstinence, thank you very much."

"I know I'm being a bit overexcited with all this lately—"

"You think?"

"—it's just that.. … ..b-being a Titan… .._Wow!_ I still can't believe that I'm actually here! In the Tower!" She spins about princessily. "Kicking butt too!"

"I sure can…," I drone, staring boredly past the computer screen.

"It… …. …It's such a good feeling that… …," she suddenly hugs herself with a distant look towards some mental horizon that is paradoxically both warming and isolating. "….. …it m-makes me appreciate the little things….the **littlest** of things about my day-to-day life now that makes me happy to exist… .. …." She tilts her head. She glances at me from behind. "Rae, d-don't you _too _understand what it means to have… .. ..to have such lovely little thoughts to run to and hold dear? Little moments? Little… …_meditations_ that almost seem to transcend space and time?"

"Rae…?"

"_Raven?.?"_

My fingers resume typing. My voice shortly follows: "I think I have a connection with the data here. Quickly, help me string the information together so that we may have something sizeably pertinent to share with Robin about Mumbo Jumbo's whereabouts—"

"Raven… … …," Terra leans in with a concerned breath all of the sudden, but it soon turns into a wry grin as she drips: "You _know_ what it feels like to constantly see and hear something in your head that makes you happy? Hehe—don'tcha?"

I pause to speak to her but not look at her: "I know what it feels like to think that I can dream… … ….and then have that dream shattered by just how overwhelming the true reality is… .. .." Two violet daggers haplessly stabbing sideways…. "…that each of us are all inescapably alone and we have noone to blame and we have noone to save and yet we only have ourselves from birth to unbirth to bounce it back to."

"… .. … …," and as quick as rain, Terra's smile leaves her. She bites her lip.

"… .. … …" Done, I turn back to the computer screen and type away.

She leans back with a shudder… .. ..and hugs herself all the more. "It… …It really is so cute when Beast Boy purrs… .. …I sometimes wonder if he really kn-knows that he does it in his sleep…."

I take a breath. I brush a few strands of blue hair out from my forehead in blatant futility.

Beast Boy doesn't know anything.

That's why he's always so happy… …whether he's living life asleep or half-dead.

Terra is then silent for the rest of the afternoon following that….

And quite incidentally I almost find myself _respecting_ her for the first time since we met.


	93. Drive

﻿

"Okay, Rae… …You're doin' fine, girl. Just stay in your lane. Mind the traffic in the rear view mirror. Keep your hands at Ten and Twenty—"

"Ten and Twenty?"

"Er…. …"

"What exactly does that mean—"

"It's like the positions of the hands on a clock. Keep them in exactly those places on the wheel."

"… .. ..Huh?"

"J-Just keep your hands where they are! They're fine!"

"I'm not driving one-handed."

"No. No you're not, Rae."

"Driving one handed is bad."

"Yes, yes it is---well…."

"Or—Doesn't the manual say that driving one-handed is bad--?"

"J-Just drive with two hands for now."

"I am…."

"A-And keep checking in the rear mirror—"

"I am! Cyborg… …._Cyborg_ it's **okay**…."

"Okay.. ….It's okay.. …."

"I'm not nervous.. …. …Why should you be?"

"Who said I was nervous?"

"You're **sweating**, Cyborg."

"So what if I am, girl?"

"… .. …I thought your accident left you _without sweat glands."_

"That's just an urban myth. Heheh… …I-I'm popular! Y-Yeah! Erm.. …and when you get popular, you get urban myths and all that jazz—Watch it—_Rae!_ _Watch it! He's changing lanes without a turn signal—"_

"I **see him**, Cyborg. I'm letting him go—"

"Honk the horn!"

"No."

"No?"

"We're not in a hurry. Besides, I don't want to get into any confrontations while on the road."

"Rae, this isn't road rage or anything we're talkin' about! It's called being assertive!"

"Just… .. ..Ya know.. … ..No reason lettin' morons like that break the rules of the road AND get in your way, if you catch my drift."

"If he pulls another stupid, punk-ass stunt without properly signaling, God help me if I don't pull my sonic cannon out and show him what-for. Heh heh heh……. ….You want Road Rage? Boo-Ya! You got it! Ha ha ha….hoooo boy…heh…"

"… … … … …. … …I _am_ assertive…."

"Hmm?"

"I am."

"Not judging you as a **person**, Rae. I'm just sayin'—"

"Nnnngh… …I'm sorry, Cyborg. Really…."

".. … …Eh?"

"It's been so long since I've done this…."

"Practice makes perfect, cutie! Besides, you're doin' fine…"

"I never thought I'd ever have to use the T-Car, in all practicality."

"Well, you just never know, do you? Someone besides Cyborg and I have got to operate this Baby—_Take a right turn here."_

"On it."

"Ahem—And you just _know_ that Beast Boy and Starfire aren't quite the cut."

"I've assumed as much."

"There ain't enough phone books in the world to help that little grass stain up to the steering wheel."

"Hmmph….figures."

"How so?"

"Er.. … ..I just think I _now_ know why he's always whining for a moped…"

"Hah hah hah! Ain't that right?"

"Mmmm… … …. … … …I guess….. …."

"And Starfire, well—"

"Her feet would snap the pedal in two."

"Er.. …Y-Yeah….Gulp… ..Which is kinda sorta why I've never asked the girl to do carpool."

"Personally, I think she'd be more inclined to learn how to use Robin's motorcycle than to use the T-Car."

"Why? Heh… …Cuz the motorcycle seat is where the Boy Wonder's rump is most of the time when Starfire isn't given a chance to _look at it?_"

"… .. … …er—"

"Am I-I off with that--?"

"I.. … .I-I was just going to say because _Starfire loves a thrilling ride_ more than something as tranquil and simple as cruising about in a four-wheeled vehicle, but—"

"Uhhh—"

"—Sure, Cyborg. Whatever you say."

"We all have the liberty to hypothesize… .. .. …D-Don't we?"

"That is to say—"

"_What_, Cyborg? Are you looking for me to backup your perverted hyperboles?"

"Heh—Boy does _that_ sound like a come-on."

"I'm telling Robin that you said 'Boy Wonder' and 'rump' in the same sentence."

"DAH! No you ain't, little missy!"

"Hmmm … ….How much of a boss you've suddenly become… .. .."

"Damn straight, girl! This is my car! Or have you forgotten that?"

"Not in the least. I'm reminded that it's your car with every single lane shift I make and every light I brake at—"

_**HONK! HONK!**_

Vrmmmmmmmmmmm!---"Yeah! Titans!"

"Yeah, you rule!" HONK! HONK!

Wooo! Cyborg! Raven!"

"Keep it real, ya love birds!"

_"Hahahaha—HIT IT!" **SCREEEEEECH!**_

_**VRMMMMMMMMMM**MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm….._

"…. …. …. …. …"

"… … …huh… …."

"What in the Sam-Hell was that about?"

"We obviously have fans who share the asphalt with us when I'm practicing driving."

"More like morons too young to own a _Porsche like that! Dayum!_"

"Stay calm.. … ..You have absolutely nothing to be envious about—"

"Who's envious? Did you hear what the heck they said?"

"…. … … …erm… …"

"Somebody should write them punks a ticket! Or at least put a security lock on their tire or some crap! Sheesh!"

"Total.. … .. ..effing… .. .. .. ..morons… .. . .. …"

"… .. .. ….erm.. .. .. …Raven?"

"… .. .. …Yes, Cyborg?"

"…. .. .. …Do you think. … ..that is—"

"What?"

"Do you think that people.. … ..not just _those people_---but people in general.. .. … …ya know.. .. …think that way?"

"Think what way?"

"_That _way."

".. … ….about **us**."

"Define 'us'."

"Not Robin, Not Beast Boy, and Not Starfire."

"'What do they think'?"

"Y-Yeah… …"

"More importantly, does it really matter?"

"… . … …erm… .. …d-does it?"

"… .. … …or.. … …n-no… .. ..wait… .. . .I-I guess… .. …I guess it doesn't, heh heh heh…."

"Heh heh… …. …heh… …"

"… … … …. …. What do I do here?

"… …hmm?"

"What do I do here, Cyborg?"

"Uhmmm—"

"**What do I do here?.?.?"**

"Whoah—Huh?"

HONK! HONK!

"DAH! JEEZ! Uhm---BRAKES, Rae! Brakes Brakes Brakes Brakes!.!.!.!"

_SCREEECH!_

_SC-SCREEECH!—Honk! "Hey! What's the matter with you! You almost hit me, you stupid bitch!"_

"Hey! At least she has a lot sharper nerves than you, jerkface!"

_"You wanna step outside and say that to me in person, rust-bucket?"_

"Yeah! I'll say it to you! How's a million decibels launched into your ear canal at point blanc appeal to you?.?.?"

"Cyborg—"

"You talk big for a weenie-roast driving a Volvo--!"

"Cyborg, just let it go. Neither of us got hit."

"Mmmmmnnng….."

_Vrrm-VRRMMMMmmmmmmm…._

"… … …..hmmmmff…."

"Easy, Raven… …Just move along…"

"I am.. …I am…."

"Wh-What happened back there, anyways?"

"I don't know… …I-I…. …I'm not sure—"

"Damn it! Why do people have to be such _asses?"_

"Cyborg… .. …"

"That guy was a jerk. He had NO business talking to you that way!"

"Cyborg, just let it go—"

"Calling you names. Heh.. …all gentlemen are dead, I tell you.. …"

"I'm sure it was all a big misunderstanding…"

"'Big misunderstandings' add up to a whole lot of stupidity on the roadside, Raven. It's not like you did anything really nasty—I still don't know what freakin' happened back there!"

"I know. I thought he was supposed to give me the left of way."

"Yeah, he--… … … …. ….the '_left of way_', Raven?"

"Yeah…."

"Erm.. .. …'no'?"

"Why don't we.. .. …p-pull over into a parking lot for a few minutes?"

"Y-Yeah. Uhm.. …th-that's a good idea, Cyborg."

"Just… …take a breather… …**review things**…. …that sort of stuff…."

"N-Not a bad idea…"

"Don't forget to signal."

"I'm not."

"And don't go above fifteen as you try to find a space—Thatta girl… …"

"I think I just need to breathe for a few seconds."

"Heh.. …don't we all…."

"… … … … ..uhm.. …."

"Cyborg?"

"Yes, Rae?"

"…. … …. … … …. … …_th-thanks_… …."

"Heh.. …. ..Anytime, cutie. Anytime.. … …"


	94. Touched

﻿

"So, like, dudes…. ….are we working now or not?"

"Working?"

"Yeah, ya know. Like—Going after criminals! Minding the beat! On the lookout for robberies! Working!"

"That's the first time I ever heard anyone refer to what we Titans do as 'working'."

"Well, on a night like this it is. I'm hungry!"

"Relax, little man… …we're heading on home," Cyborg slips in a CD into the deck of the T-Car. Beast Boy kicks back in the front passenger seat as we cruise at a steady pace southward along the highway and into Town. It's late at night. The streetlights flicker by like comets. Our muscles are tyred… … ..bruised… …

"Is Robin taking the R-Cycle or something?" the green elf yawns.

"Heh… ..Nah, I think he's taking the Starfire Express."

"Hehehehe! Omigosh, he _so_ is! Isn't he!"

"Yup! Hardly says 'no' when she asks these days."

"Man.. ….did the thing between them two just creep up or what?"

"You've been blind all this time or something?"

"NO… .. …Just not enough carrots."

"Feh, you're impossible."

"Yeah, but at least I'm a lot more fit than Raven! Heh… …all those cups of tea didn't help you much tonight at the drug sting, did it Rae? Hehehehe…."

"… …. ….," I lean against the window. I stare out the window. I exist out the window…

"Bah.. ….she's a mannequin in secret, I'm telling you."

"Leave her alone, B.B. It's been a tyring night for all of us. It's hard keeping my eyes open, to tell the truth."

"Yeah, I can te-WHOAH! Dude! You sure you can drive?"

"Wipe that smile off your face!"

"Hehehehe…. …You should trust me by now, B.B."

"Yeah, least I can say about your taste in music."

"Hey! What's wrong with my--?"

"Okay, so I was just picking at straws to tease you back."

"Well, it ain't workin'. I happen to hold a lot of pride in my tunes, man."

"What is this? Sounds funky… …with a techno touch."

"Mmm? Oh. Boom Bip. Blue Eyed In the Red Room."

"Say whaaaaaa--?"

"Uhhh…Uber Indie Alternative Sorta stuff. They've been around—Just nobody has heard about them."

"Dude, that means it's one of those high-and-mighty experimental fluff—The kind of junk you hear all the time between babbling goof-offs on college radio, isn't it?"

"Yo! You shut your mouth! This is good sh---"

"AHEM!"

"Erm….right….Well, they're good. And that's that."

"I hear ya."

"They're good, or else someone with pointed ears is getting' tossed out of my car---!"

"Dude! I'm not complaining! I can hear them, they're pretty cool. I just never knew you to be so… …so… .. … …"

"So what?"

"Far out."

"Sppkkkt—What? Heheh—'Far out'?"

"Yeah.. …What, you don't believe that, Cy?"

"I don't believe a lot of things."

"You're so smart, and into sci-fi, and I could have sworn I saw you stealing out for church once or twice on a Sunday morning—"

"Okay, now you're just pulling that kind of stuff out from under your paws."

"I'm serious!—Well, maybe not as serious as you, dude, but—"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"_Episcopalian?"_

"Dah! Did you follow me, dawg?"

"Snkkkt-hahahaha! Dude, I was just bluffing! You're seriously a Sunday Bible-Thumper?"

"Only once or twice—Okay? You got a problem with that?"

"Do they ever worry about your rusting on them during the laying on of hands?"

"It ain't no Pentecostal or Charismatic tent revi—Man, what's that supposed to mean? Why are we even talking about this?"

"Hey, I'm just giddy! That's all, dude! I never once imagined—"

"So my parents were—like—really all into God and stuff and I happen to remember being a part of that when I was a kid and now it sometimes helps to—ya know—walk into the Lord's House and see if He's at home. So many other countless Americans are doing it. Heck, I bet even your parents did it!"

"… … …. … …I-I don't remember if my parents had a religion or not…."

"… … …. …. …… …hmnnngh… ….just listen to the music, man….."

The song changes.

The track switches over.

A new set of music begins.

Rising slowly.

Soft and melancholy.

I am already drifting elsewhere.. .. …but in a rising motion that contradicts the slowed tempo of the track and the shifting mood of the vibrating interior, I find myself suddenly leaning towards the front of the world. The threshold of the comet-streaked universe….

And at some point, Beast Boy says again: "Still.. …. …I never noticed it. I guess I always assumed it was just friendship—"

"What are we talking about?"

"Starfire and Robin."

"Man, just let it go… …"

"I wasn't about to poke fun at them or anything--!"

"You were going to."

"… …okay, maybe just a _little_."

"Heh heh heh…."

"Hehehehe…."

"Cyborg… …," it is my voice. And it is dripping. As I'm leaning forward, and lowering my hood. "….Cyborg, what _is this?"_"

"Hmm? What's that, Rae?"

"HOLY SMOKES! SHE LIVES!"

"Shhh! _Go play with the ash tray, Beast Boy."_

_"We have an ash tray?"_

"What is it, Rae?" Cyborg glances over his shoulder once while driving.

My lips are parted. For I am aghast to the breezy tune… …the near religious darkness dwindling in tranquil background ambiance. And the beautifully emotionless voice breathing, breathing, breathing onto melodic desolation….

"Who… ….Wh-Who _is this?"_

"Like I was tellin' Beast Boy. It's Boom Bip, ya know? The album's name is 'Blue Eyed in the Red Room'."

"Why in the heck would you have an ash tray in the T-Car—?"

Whap!

"_Ow!"  
_  
"N-No….but this **song**," I murmur. "… …this is also them?"

"Huh? No, wait—It is them, and yet it isn't."

"A collaboration?"

"Yeah."

"Then, who is it?"

Cyborg picks up the CD jewel case and glances at it for a moment. "Mmmrphh… ..I can't tell from the CD art. But the built-in Titan subcomputer should tell by the track name—" _Beep!_ "—ah. Nina Natasia. 'The Matter Of Our Discussion' or something like that."

"Raven? That answer your question?"

"…. … …. …I never heard anything more beautiful."

Cyborg glances back.

Beast Boy glances back.

I slowly.. ….gently drift back into my seat. Still numb. Hardly fazed by the streaking comet lights on either side of us. Beyond the superficial windows.

"Wow.. ….R-Raven…," Beast Boy blinks from the front seat. "If I didn't know better, I almost thought you _liked_ something at least barely resembling a happy song."

"Maaaaan, _happy?_"

"Heh… …Yeah, you're right. Just listening to _those lyrics_. Sheesh! No wonder you like it, Raven."

"I… … ..I-I do….," I hug my far shoulder with the opposite hand and exhale. "… … ….it's a n-nice song…."

Cyborg smirks. "Ya know, it never hurts to admit for once that something's touched you, Raven."

I glance back at him in the rear-view mirror. I feel like frowning. And yet, I can't get it out. "What?"

"Tell you what." Cyborg's hand swiftly slaps over the dashboard. He slides the CD out, one-handedly packs it back into the jewel case with extraordinary finesse, and hands it back to me. "Borrow it for a while."

With pursed lips, I humbly receive the musical selection in two gentle palms. "… .. …are you sure?" I murmur.

"Absolutely. I was in the mood for something a bit more upbeat lately anyways."

"… … ….," I stare at the selection in my grasp. "… .. …"

"Erm…," Cyborg fidgets a bit. "Not that you're necessarily leaning towards things that our moody or depressing, Raven, it's just—"

"Th-Thanks," I manage.

"… … ..heheh…. …no problem whatsoever, cutie…"

"WOO!" Beast Boy cheers and scrambles to take green-fingered control over the radio. "Time for the elf-man to be the DJ! HEY! Check this out! They Might Be Giants back to back!"

"Uh uh, little man! Anything but that!"

"Dude! But they rock!"

"Every damned song sounds the same!"

"Pffft—Pansy-butt-indie lover!"

"Nuts to you, punk!"

"…. … …," I stare down at the album in my hand. I take a deep breath.

Yeah…. …

_That's it… …_

'Touched'… … … ….


	95. Rage

﻿

I lie in a crying heap inside the cathedral.

The world rumbles outside with swirling red, like some gigantic cyclone.

I am alarmed by this adult woman's voice squeaking out of me.

Just yesterday I was fleeing from the Temple of Azarath in a white leotard, screaming the mother whose blood soaked my skin.

Running from what I knew and didn't know to be my final reckoning.

Above me now, the stain glass windows rattle and waver with the kaleidoscopic transfiguration of the world's grumbling chaos.

I do not know why I chose this place.

But I know why I came here.

_If for just one final moment.. …_

One lasting second.. .. …

I can prolong the inevitable by keeping away from **them**… …

_**They**…might be safe… .._

_  
For a few more seconds.. …_

And I weep.

And I weep.. …

For the tears that fall have only a few skim seconds to roll over the red marks blazing outward from the lengths of my arms—and then they sizzle into ash and steam.

I am covered in red tattoos from top to bottom.

They peek out from under the shredded remnants of my white gown.

My long blue hair is a shredded facsimile of yesteryear.. …the mother that unwittingly launched this venomous capsule into the world.

And his laughter.. ….

_His LAUGHTER… .. …_

It's making the Cathedral shake from the outside in.

Its granite arches shedding dirt and dust down onto me.

The pews rocking back and forth.

The altar swaying back and forth.. …

The cross losing its gleam and growing duller against the fiery-redder windows…

It has finally come at last.

Everything else was a precursor.

But now…..now….. …

_There is nothing to do but **end**._

_Not me, but everything around me._

_For—Azar above, help me—I cannot bring about my own end._

Try as I try.. …

I cannot… …

So I weep and I wilt and I weep and I wilt… …

And I lie there in a puddle of pity.. …

.. …. ..I hear her footsteps.. …

Red-Brown hiking boots against the stone chapel floor…. …

Burgundy and red leotard framed by yellow sleeves and neck… ..

A brown leather jacket draped over the thin, feminine figure….

A red mask framing a determined face.. .. ..golden hair cropped short and simple with age.

Helpless blue eyes.. …now hardened into sharp sapphires…

She echoes.. …echoes.. …echoes her way from the large open doors to the red world outside.

And right at the edges of my trembling form, he stops.

"Raven.. .. …. …," she breathes. Her voice still has that lightness to it, and yet that chilling ferocity laced around the edges. "… … ….Raven, I cannot allow this to continue.. … …"

I choke back a sob. From beneath a shivering cocoon of red-glowing arms, I talk to her without looking at her: "T-Terra.. … …Terra, wherever you've come from.. … …wh-whatever your reason—"

"Raven, if the world is going to end.. … .._Somebody_ must be there to prevent it. Long ago, I turned my back on the Titans. And from a selfish distance I watched them. … ..listened in on them.. .. ..and in my restless dreams, I worried about them. But what I worried most of all is that someone or some_thing_ might grow to become worse of a killer of the entire team than I ever was. And Raven, when I 'died'.. …I made sure I _stayed 'dead'_. You are _ever alive_ to the Titans, Raven. And as such, you are the greatest threat to them _and_ you continue to be the greatest threat there is **to the world**…."

I listen to her in shuddering silence. I do not intterupt….. ….I do not interrupt because one hundred percent of everything she is telling me is already second-hand truth to me, two decades and a half in the making…

"I overheard what Nightwing, Starfire, and the others are planning. Even with Herald, Jericho, and Menos dead—they're still plotting a roundabout way to save you. Even after you _killed **Aqualad** with your own demonic hands,_ they still fail to act. The only answer to stopping further deaths of heroes… … …to stopping the ultimate return of Trigon to this world.. ….Raven, you.. ..must.. …die…."

I grit my teeth and clench my violet eyes shut. A hiccup. My womany voice: "D-Do you think I **haven't tried**, Terra?"

She takes a deep breath.. …doing her best to glare at me.. ….

I shake. I stand up on wobbling legs. I face her, hyperventilating. In a hunch, I'm bound by the red tattoos glowing brightly all across my body. I lift two shaking hands and expose my wrists to her. Immaculate now, but—"N-No matter how much a batarang or a sword edge cuts in, the dark magic seals the flesh b-back up!" Eyes wide. Cold sweat. I tilt my head up and part the blue hair to expose the nape of my neck. "N-No matter how tight the noose. … ..the rope always sn-snaps.. .. …" I point out the front entrance of the Cathedral. Fingers shaking. "No fall is h-high enough to claim me… … … no poison potent enough to finish me.. .. ..Terra.. …T-Terra, I have _tried_.. .. ..I have actually gone against everything m-my mother has ever taught me and _TRIED_.. …so pitifully _TRIED_ in the end to take the weakest way out, and I have come up with nothing!"

"Then stop relying on the bias of _your own hand_.. …," Terra clenches her fists and an aura of hot yellow starts to emanate throbbingly from her center. ".. …and allow someone without a heart to do what's necessary for you and the world as well—"

"Can't y-you **see**?.?.?" I pant.. ..pant.. …pant…. "It's _IMPOSSIBLE!"_ My teeth grit and four reptilian eyes briefly, _hotly_ flicker **RED** across my brow as I spit: "It's Rage!… …**RAGE!** My father will NOT let me be DEFEATED… …by anyone.. …or anything!"

"If your father wants you that bad…," Terra snarls. Bits of dust and rock start to rise around her and rattle against the stone floor as her fists clench tighter. "… ..then allow me to reunite his daughter with him… … …by burying her once and for all in **hell**… …"

"Please… ….P-Please, Terra….," I whimper and hobble down the aisle, supporting myself with wobbling fists planted against the pews. ".. ..you can't.. …."

"We are both bound by are own similar fates, Raven…," Terra strips of her leather jacket, one arm at a time. She stands in her burgundy and orange leotard and tosses the jacket away, cracking and loosing her joints. "…. …you were always your father's daughter… .. …and I was always the slayer of Titans.. …. …Tonight our destinies consume each other….."

"… … ..y-you can't.. … ..T-Terra… …I-I'll kill you… …"

Terra nods. "As long as the rest of the world is left standing around our corpses after tonight…," she breathes one final gasp for courage and slips her goggles over the fitting holes in her eyemask. "… ….then I will _finally_ have redeemed myself.. …."

"My father.. …," I shudder and bite my lip. Shaking all over. Unwilling to look at her. ".. …he will not allow you to claim me.. .. …th-the rage, Terra.. … it is more than I could bear.. …I-I only wish it would be that easy…"

Terra gnashes her teeth and resists at first, but eventually pours forth: "And I only wish you and I had gotten to be true friends, Raven.. … ..but as such, I know I must do this…" She walks towards me. Every footstep is like a thunderbolt. The cathedral shakes twice as much now—partially from the bleeding sky outside, as much as from the terrakinetick marching my way with the Earth at her command. "I may not be as powerful or _skilled_ as I used to be.. … ..but I have something that Nightwing and the other Titans don't.. … ..and that's a stubbornness to break the convention.. … …and _break Trigon **through breaking you**_."

I heave… …I heave.. …I heave…

She stretches a hand out towards me. The Cathedral heats up. Burning dust rises and glows a bright gold--

I flash my face towards her. I am frowning. And a momentary pair of fangs appear beneath my lips as four **RED** eyes strobe and: **_"NoOoOoOoOo!.!.!.!"_** I fling my wrist towards her, and talons of intermingling **red**-and**-black** soar straight at the woman in a satanic explosion.

**_POW!.!.!_**

Terra has very little time to gasp. "Nnnngh!" She's tossed back down the line of pews. She lands on her rear and topples over to her shoulders, dazed and staring at the ceiling.

_Fwoooosh!—**Stomp-Stomp-Stomp!-Stomp!**_ I'm streaking towards her on ghostly demon feet. **_"YoU wIlL nOt TaKe HeR fRoM mE!.!.!.!"_** I leap up in a crimson streak. **_FWOOOOSH!_** Hovering for the briefest of seconds on translucent red gargoyle wings, I shimmer down into the tortured body of a screaming banshee woman and sail towards her gut, heel first. "**YAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"**

Terra all but bites her tongue—"Mmmmf!" She reverse-somersaults and leaps up out of the way of my impact—

**_CRACCCK!_** My heel digs into the cold Cathedral floor. The sudden impact shakes the ghost out of me. For the briefest of seconds, I'm again this helpless woman in a tattered white gown clinging to her red-glowing limbs and panting… …panting… …panting…

In the meantime, Terra collects the chunks of unearthed stone in mid-air and forms a disjointed platform of rock beneath her. Poising her body in a perpetual squat, she rides the burning rock pieces up, up, up and around until she soars directly overhead. She raises two hands to the ceiling—"Nnnnnngh!"—and produces a hot stream of gold energy that encircles two massive stone arches to the Cathedral's construct.

**_CRKKKK!_**

CRKK-KKKK!

She plucks the two giant stone beams from the ceiling like snapping wishbones out of a giant ribcage. She spins on her stone platform, screams, and hurtles both multi-ton slabs of curved granite towards me. _Thwoooosh-THWOOOOOSH!_

I feel the rush of air heating up as the gigantic projectiles close in on me.

I whimper and clench my violet eyes shut.

_Please…_

Father… …

Have mercy….

But four **RED** eyes promptly open. "Hsss**_shhhhh_**" A sneer, and—

**_FWOOOOOOSH!_** I _blur_ directly upwards in a phantom streak of red limbs and red wings. I demon-hop-and-bounce through the debris, leaping off the two stone beams and letting them thunderously crash beneath me and shatter the pews into the splinters as I soar my screaming way into the levitating, earthen warrioress. "**_HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGH!"_**

Terra gasps and summons a shield of dirt—

**_SMASSSH!_** I elbow through it and slam into her.

"Oommph!"

"**HRRRRSHKKKK!"**

The two of us plummet—flailing together as one—off her stone platform, across the echoing Cathedral, and slam into the giant organ to the left side of the altar.

**_KRONNNNNNGG!.!.!.!.!_**

The entire building fills with the ear-splitting vibrations of the shattered instruments. Like the orchestra of Hell has opened up to us to follow the soundtrack of the burning world gone red outside.

Terra rolls across the ground, grunting.

No less than a second after I myself have collapsed, I'm suddenly bolding straight towards her in a red streak. Four red eyes flickering. Fanged teeth drooling. **_"Haaaaaaaaccckkk!"_**

Terra—teeth gritting and hair a tangled mess—lifts a hand out towards the cold cathedral ground in front of me.

**_CRKKKK!_**

Giant spikes of jutting rock shoot upwards, smashing through and uprooting the earthen floor before the path my father is dragging me. On flickering red wings that are there and gone again, I slide left and right to circumnavigate the spikes and leap upon Terra—

"Nnnngh!" Terra clenches her fist.

The last jutting spike lifts up and slams straight into me.

**_SMASH!_**

I'm shoved back through the air and straight into the heart of the church organ.

**_CRUNNNNCH!_** The spikes of rock soar in after me and shatter the instrument to shreds all over. The tall, brass organ pipes collapse into a cacophonous pile of mangled metal. **_KLANNNNG! KLONNNNG! KL-KL-KLANNNG!_**

Dust.. …dust.. …dust… …

Silence… …

Terra pants…..pants.. …… ..pants….

She winces—but forces herself up.

She shuffles to her feet.

The woman stumbles.. .. …limping across the church floor.

She weaves her way around the crumbling spikes of earth and approaches the collapsed organ.

Her masked/goggled eyes narrow.

She looks at the collapsed metal pipes.

The debris.

The crumbling detritus….

She looks left.. … …she looks right.. … …she looks left—

Four **RED** spots reflect off the back of her leotard.

She gasps.

She spins--

**_"Stupid WENCH!"_** I snarl, red tattoos flaring as my arms lift a huge metal pipe over my head with scarlet energy. **_"You can't bury someone who's LoRd Of HeLl!.!.!.!"_**

_Swooooosh-**WHANNNNG!**_ The pipe slams across her cheek.

Terra spins, coughing up blood and fragments of teeth.

**_"Hrssskkk--!"_** My four red eyes flare as I bear my fangs and slam the pipe across her midsection. **_CLANG!_**

Terra goes flying off and sprawling through rows of pews that smash and shatter apart like eggshell dominoes.

**_CrCrCrCrassssh!_**

Terra rolls t a groaning stop. She winces, sits up, and shakes the blonde bangs from in front of her goggles—

**_SNKKKKT!_**

"AAAAAAAAUGH!" She screams, tears burning free from her ducts. A pair of crimson, flickering talons have sunk into each of her breasts.

I lean into her and hiss in her face. **_"FiNaLlY.. … ..sOmEtHiNg To GrAb OnTo. Hrshhhh-haahahahahhhh—IsN't ThAt RiGhT, BITCH?.?.?"_**

I lift her by the impaling claws, spin, snarl, and fling her with red demon energy across the cathedral--….

….—and through the stained glass windows above the altar.

_**SHATTERRRRR!.!.!.!**_

Terra sails through the window in a sea of glass. Her already bleeding skin is knicked and scratched all the more as she plummets, plummets, plummets. Somehow—in mid fall—she summons the strength to fling a hand earthward and form a crater in the ground just in time to absorb her impact.

Fw-Fwump!

She gasps and jolts—

_Clnlnlnknklkkkkttt!_ The glass showers all around her in a serrated rain.

Terra pants.. …pants… ..pants….

Her goggles are fogged.

Her leotard is torn all over.

Ten deep holes in her chest leak red.

She limps up to her feet, strips of her goggles, and looks around.

The rear of the cathedral sits in a glade.. …bordered by a babbling brook that stretches along the line of a thick forest of pine.

Terra lets out a shuddering exhale—

_RUMMMMMBLE!_

She winces and looks up to see the sky that has been stretched over her for these past few days. The red, blood-colored swirls. The gases mixing and morphing and dancing the devil's tongue juice. Velvet rich soups of scarlet cyclonically mixed in the air. The world is a rumbling echo of the breath of evil deflating poisonously towards the Earth.

Terra gulps. She hears a rushing sound. She glances up---

_SWIIIIIIISH!_ An altar cross is flying at her like a javelin.

"Nnngh!" She leaps back.

_SMASH!_ The cross shatters into splinters beneath her.

_Swooosh!_ I land in a descending drift of red energy. Grinning fanged teeth, my eyes flicker a hot red as I march burningly towards her. **_"YoUr CoWaRdLy WaYs Of RuNnInG aRe OvEr, TeRrA. YoU aRe TrIgOn'S cOnCuBiNe NoW, jUsT lIkE eVeRy oThEr WhOrE oN tHiS pLaNeT! YoU aRe My FaThEr's, A qUeEn Or A cOrPsE!"_**

"Raven…," Terra raises her fists and hobbles backwards, frowning. "Work with me.. .. ..let's end this so that your father can't use you anymore…"

I can't… …

I can't.. … ….

"**_YoUr SpEaKiNg To ThE wRoNg EnD oF mY hAnDiWoRk… …."_** _CHIIING!_ I raise two talons of burning red and snicker. "**_Hehhh-Hehhhh-Hehhhh…. … …BuT tHaT cAn Be ArRaNgEd… …"_**

Run, Terra… …

"I can't let you continue t-to continue existing…," Terra wincingly manages.

"_**Do YoU bElIeVe ThAt YoU aRe A hErO, WENCH?"**_

_Please…._

"One day.. …," Terra's eyes narrow icily. ".. …someone called me a 'true Titan'… …and a 'true friend'.. ….let that be the end of that."

_Run!_

**_"InDeEeD……"_** **_FWOOOOSH!_** I'm upon her, red talons swiping from the dimensions of Hell.

**_SLASSH! SLASSSH!_**

Terra lifts mud up to form two earth shields with her blocking elbows. **_THWUMP! TH-THRUMP!_** The clay splashes into her face. She grits her teeth, hobbles back, and stretches both hands down to the earth as I---

"**_HAAAAAAUCK!"_** I leap upon her and clutch my talons around her skull.

"Mmmmmf!"

**_"Heheh…._**" I open my jaws grotesquely large and bear my fangs to bite through to the bone of her skull.

_No!_

"MmmFF!" Terra clutches her fists. Two roping tentacles of mud rise up out of the earth and ensnare my human legs. In a jerk, the gasping lady inside of me is yanked back in a trailing ghost streak of white.

_Th-Thwump!_ I land hard on the ground, red eyes shrinking to two violets and burning back to red---

"YAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!" Terra brings two fists together.

I glance on either side of me, gasping with a human voice as---

**_SMASSSSH!_** Two walls of Earth slam into me on either side.

A glaring Terra entwines her gnarled fingers together, bleeding over her outstretched arms as she struggles to command the two slabs of mud into constricting---

**_POWWWW!_**

Terra gasps and stumbles back as mud and dirt fly everywhere.

I stand there, my body flickering back and forth from pale vulnerability to red monstrosity. I seethe.. …hiss…and lift off. _Fw-Fwooosh!_

Terra glances up at me. Barely standing with her blood loss, she terrakinetically 'scoops' up two mounds of earth from either side of her and tosses the levitating globules at me.

I form a demonic symbol with both tattooed hands glowing together. "**_RrrrrRAAAAUGH!"_** I snarl and fling a spiraling array of scarlet-colored telekinesis down at the incoming earth field. **_CRUNNNCCCCCH!_** Terra's projectiles explode. With a twirl and a somersault on briefly existing wings, I fling myself murderously down towards her. **_"RRRRRRRGHHH!"_**

Terra gasps, hops back, and braces for—

**_SWOOOOSH!-SLASH!SLASH!SLASH!SLASH!SLASH!_** Scraping, burning talons shred into her blocking forearms at over two dozen spots.

Terra winces, gnashes her teeth, and shoves back against my glowing body. "Nnnngh!"

I stumble back and raise a telekinetic demon talon to strike--

**SMACK!** Terra elbows me hard across the cheek.

I nearly twirl from the impact.

_WH-WHUMP!_ Terra kicks me in the hip.

I buckle--

_YANK!_ Terra grabs a tangle of my blue hair in one hand and summons from nearby clumps of dirt a hard, sharp-edged spear. "Sleep, Raven. Sleep forever and consider it the only mercy you _deserve—_"

P-Please…

_  
Do it now…._

She stabs the spike towards the nape of my neck.

Please—FATHER! NO!

"**_HRAAUGH!"_** I head-butt her in the chest.

"Ooof!"

Her spear barely grazes my shoulder. _SLIIIINK!_ Demon blood leaks out onto Terra's wrist and burns her like acid. _SSSSsssssssssss!_

"Aaa-Aaugh!" Terra drops the earthen spear and stumbles back—

**_WHAM!_** I back-hand her across the cheek and leap up with a red, burning foot slammed into her gut.

**WHUMP!**

Terra falls backwards towards the river. She falls on her rear in the wind-blown grass and shudders all over.

"**_YoU wIlL mAkE aN aMuSiNg SpItRaG iN hElL, BITCH!"_** I grin fangedly, marching towards her with the world billowing and thundering _red_ overhead. **_"ThAnK yOu FoR tHe LaSt MiNuTe SpOrT!.!.!"_**

Terra grits her teeth and flicks, flicks, flicks, flicks her wrists towards me. "Nnngh-Nnnngh-Nnnngh-Nnnngh!.!.!"

_**Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Thap!**I _Pellets of mud constantly bombard my body and cover the front of my being with a caking layer of filth. I shield myself with two tattooed arms and managed a cold, shivering gasp as my violet eyes twitch under the crimson control—

Terra—in the meantime—hyperventilates, glances aside, gasps at the sight of her discarded earthen spear—leaps for it and tosses at me amidst my blindness.

_Thwooooosh!_

My eyes twitch. All _six_ of them.

_Father---!_

**_CLACK!_** My face jerks aside.

Terra watches, breathless….

"… .. .. …," I slowly turn my head and face him. I have the javelin of hard-earth lodged in my fanged teeth. I grin around the captured prize. But no sooner and I've spat it into my hand, twirled it amidst my fingers once and tossed it with demonic speed—

THWI-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-ISH!

**_THUNK!_** The spear impales itself between Terra's thighs.

"AAAA-_HAAAAUGH!"_ Terra wails.

Eyes flicker as I lean forward with tightened limbs and sneer: **_"HoNeY, I'm HoMe!----SNKKKKKRAAAAAAUGHT!"_** I run. I glide. I shove her—

Dear Azar, please---

--and we go sailing—

No, Terra….N-No…

--and plummeting into the babbling river.

_SPLOOOSH!_

I land on top of Terra's reddened body.

I perch atop of her, half-submerged in the running brook.

"_**Heheheheheheeheheeeeeeeh!"**_

_No. …Father……_

**_WHAM!_**

St-Stop it!

_**WHAM! SMACK! TH-THUNK!**_

Stop it, father! P-Please!

My fists are pummeling, pummeling, pummeling.

Red talons scraping, scratching, carving.

I can't tell from the splashing impacts what is water or what is Terra's disintegrating face.

She spurts and gasps and sputters and tries to scream, but—**_WHAM!_**

**WH-WHAM!**

THUD!

STOP IT!

**TH-THWACK!**

WHAM!

PLEASE, FATHER!

DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS!

My fingers dig into Terra's neck.

I lift her soaked head out of the water.

Dribbling red.

Coughing.

One eye working.

The other hung back, filled up like a red grape with useless juices.

She gazes at me with whatever sight she has left.

"**_Hehehehehhhhheeeeeehh.. ….Is ThIs NoT rIgHtEoUs, BITCH?"_** I sneer into her face, four red eyes strobing. **_"ThIs Is BuT mY wOrLd.. …aNd NoW fAcE tHe JuDgMeNt ThAt AwAiTs YoU!"_**

The red sky swirls.

The babbling brook.. …the cold rivulets.. ….

The red.. ….the red….

"F-Fight it, R-Raven….," Terra gurgles. "I know there is s-something left inside of th-this that still can—"

"**_SILENCE, YOU WHORE!"_** I hiss hellishly into her shattered face. "**_OnCe YoU tRiEd DrOwNiNg Me In PuTrId MuD!"_** My demon drool drops past her and sinks into the riverwater. The liquid turns red. A puddle of scarlet bubbles up around a shocked, shivering Terra in my grasp. **_"AnD nOw YoU aRe SeNtEnCeD tO fOrEvEr SoAk In ThE jUiCeS yOu OnCe TrIeD tO rOb ThE tItAnS oF!"_**

Terra hyperventilate and hisses.. …hisses… ..wheezes to scream but can only look with one wide eye all around her as the river water she's lying in turns completely and utterly into boiling blood. "Mmmf…nnghsskkt.. …skkst…nkkktktkstttt-tt-ttt!"

**_"YoU aRe GoInG tO bE dRoWnInG….hehehehHEHEH—FOR A VERY…LONG.. .. …TIME!"_**

NOOO!

"Snkkkt—blblblblblbllblblblbblblblbb!" Terra struggles as my hands force her into the river of blood. Blood, blood, blood everywhere…

_Everywhere… …_

Everywhere, mother… …

I… …I cannot see you… ….

Terra's broken skull bubbles from underneath the crimson surface.

I cannot feel you… …

The bubbles lessen and lessen….

_The laughter.. …the laughter.. …_

The meat strings across the antlers…

Mother--

The bubbles stop.

Terra's broken and battered body lies limp in the bleeding currents.

And I feel through her.. …_through the river of blood._

The stone creeping.

The **stone** consuming.

The ash and the sulfur and the dust between the screams, as—

Stone.. …Stone… ..Stone… …

It imprisons everyone in their own personal Hell.. …

Their own nightmares.

The demon blood spreading… ..infecting… …_polluting… …_

It is when I'm in the thick of it.. …

It is when I am wading in the river of blood, waist deep—that….

That the rage goes away.

My _father_ departs…for a spell…

And I am left in my tattered ivory dissolution to soak with Terra's body and the bleeding river.

I clutch my skull in two gnarled hands and clench my violet eyes.

_No…._

_No… …._

Save your screams.. …

It is all only **beginning**.

There will be all of eternity to howl….


	96. Here

﻿

I can barely hold the book up in my shaking hand.

I am not really reading it.

I am never. ... ..._really_ reading it.

All I do is shuffle, wander, shuffle, wander... ...

Alone in these labyrinthal halls of the Tower.

I cannot stay still.

I cannot sleep.

I must keep moving.

I must.. ...

_Keep thinking.. ... _

_Keep 'flexing'_... ...

I wander I wander I wander... ...and I find myself accosted by a space to the right of me.

I pause, I glance over..

I see that the door to Robin's workroom is wide open.

A single, pale light shines from within.

It suddenly occurs to me that it is one o'clock in the restless, bleakly dark morning.

And only those with no predeliction towards sane existence can be allowed wakefulness.

So I shuffle about, peer my head in, and see--

--Robin. Sitting at a stool. His upper body sprawled out before a workbench scattered and splattered and be-spangled with Slade, Slade, Slade, Slade.

Newspaper articles on Slade.

Alleged photographs on Slade.

Evidence and remnants and residue of Slade.

And amidst it all--in a pile of his own obsessive searchings--Robin lies exhausted. Sleeping. The Boy Wonder devoid of any thought left to stress about--if but for a moment.

_'Who is Slade?'_

_'Can the Titans stop him?'_

_'True Test of Robin's Leadership, Experts Say'_.

I walk over and stand behind his silently sleeping figure.

The utter tranquility that devours him.

The absence of anxiety for a dark circulation alone...

_Am I the only one who sees Robin so frequently out of order?_

I take a deep breath. I hide my own shudderings as I remover my blue cloak and gently, nurturingly drape it over him.

He stirs ever so slightly. A mindless mumbling escapes his lips, and he's still as stone again.

I take a deep breath. I turn around. I walk out of the room.

... ...But as soon as I open the book in futility again--I stop.

And I freeze.

And I find that I have nowhere else to go.

And all of this labyrinthal insanity is collapsing on top of me with the weight of infinite worlds.

And nobody can hear me.

And nobody can understand me.

I am ever so truly alone.

Here.

Then.

There.

Now.

"I don't know what to do, Robin.. ... ..."

He sleeps.

Bathed in the blue.

Impervious... . ...

"I am.. ... ...I am that which _is not_.. ... ..and that which denies what the rest of the world _is_.. ... .."

The dim light waxes on.

The glinting masks of Slade, fading from the apathy of eyelids.

This shivering girl clinging to herself.

Her back to the masked eyes that can never see her.

"... ... ...I cannot t-tell what is past.. ...wh-what is present.. .. ...wh-what is future.. ... ..."

A shaking voice... ...

...for a shaking frame.

"All I-I know is imminent. All I am is imminent. The eternal.. ...the temporal.. .. ...it all begins and end with me.. .. ..."

I only realize halfway into it that my eyes are shut.

That my pale skin is twice as pale.

That there is no need to imagine the tears fighting to come out from my optics--

For blindness may not be a truth, but it's relatively fundamental to all the necessities of peace.

"... ... ..me.. ...th-this curse... ...this poisoned capsule for Mother Earth. I am the beginning and the end for the Titans, Robin. And for t his world... ... ...there is nothing I-I can do.. ... ...and yet, I feel I must do _something_.. .. ... b-but what is left for me in an oblivion that never obliterates itself? What absurd reality goes beyond non-reality?"

Robin sleeps.

The world sleeps.

Like stone before it is carved into an ornament for a grave.

"All th-that's left.. ...," I think aloud. I mourn aloud. I weep aloud. But all in this perpetualmonotonous_droning_. ".. ...all th-that I am.. ... ... ...Th-The things that I see... . ... ...the things that I hear.. ... ... ...that is all I have to have.. ... ...and all I have to give... ... ..."

I turn around, but I don't look at Robin, but I _do_ look at Robin.

I collapse.

"Wh-What do I do with all of these things, Robin? Who do I give them to if not myself? I see all that there is to see, I hear all that there is to hear, and I know all that there is to know--_That everything I ever rob myself of loving shall burn to ashes regardless of what I want or do and I will be left to walk the plane of annihilation_--What, What, **_What_**, Robin? What do I do with all of this imminence? What.. ... ...Wh-What do I do with me?"

Robin doesn't respond.

He fails to exist.

I lean back against the wall.

And--in silence, in solitude--I am my perfect self.

And my perfect self slides down to the floor until she hugs her knees to her chest. Ignores the book completely. Ignores the sights and the sounds and the breath within.

"What do I do.. ...?"

Shuddering.

"What do I do.. ...?"

Trembling.

_What do I do... ...? _

_What do I do.. ...? _

_What do I do .. ...?_

--

--

--

--

--

--

--

--

--


	97. There

﻿

The Hell.

The Hell that is surrounding.

The flames and the stone.

The stone comprised of gnarled flesh.

Petrified.

These twisted bodies, bodies, bodies… …

Looping in and out of the lava.

Forever frozen in their screams.

Forever frozen in their perpetual nightmares.

Red sunrise to red sunset.

A bloody horizon of eternal suffering and agony.

The landscape of landscape itself.

This is the world I walk.

A battered, red-tainted woman.

The daughter of Evil.

With these emblems glowing on my skin—a beacon for the entire galaxy to cower from. A glow for other worlds to fear.

The avatar… …

The chosen one… ..

The deliverer of damnation—The end of all that is and the beginning of all that isn't and the fulcrum in between.

Trigon's seed.

I am.. …

I will be.. ….

Forever and forever more.

Never to die… …

Always to suffer… ..

Eternally-Occasionally bound to witness and re-witness….

My dying friends.

Their blood on my hands.

The juices of the innocent spilling, spilling, spilling.. ….

Like out of a great bird's bony beak and into a pitcher of fire.

I have lost all reserve to cry.

The screaming comes and goes, given the day.. ..month.. …year.. …eon.. … ..

Far too late, I have discovered emotion.

And—suffice to say—I have switched personalities at least three hundred times while walking these plains of pain.

There is no sleep in this ash and smoke.

There is nothing to moisten the eyes.

Nothing but the rumbling sensation of the entire universe, boiling.. .. …boiling.. .. …

As if this is my father's grand harem, and he suffers the world one gigantic orgasm of victory.

From hereon out into the heated breadth of eternity.

I've long neglected trying to come up with a rational explanation for how this ultimate evil could be Trigon's joy.

Everything is consumed as it is.

There is no soul left on the Earth not in torment.

No resource that hasn't been consumed.

No ounce of Mother Earth that has not been raped.

Surely, there are other universes for him to conquer—_But_ when would such a grand plan go into effect?

Or has this entire dimension—This _universe_ already been concerned?

At what point would eternity tire out for him and make him spread elsewhere?

Or has he already?

I cannot tell.

I am a shrouded slave under the forever-stretching ceiling of red rage and fury.

The cosmos consume me.

His red eyes.. .. ..everywhere.. … .everywhere… .. .._everywhere.. … .._

I always knew.

Yes.. ….

_Yes… .. .. …_

I had always known… ….

_From a little girl, I had known._

As a courage teenager, I had known.

As a struggling woman, I had known.

And as a battered soul, I now know.

From birth to perpetual 'death'.

From my mother's womb to my father's jaw.

This.. ….

_All of this.. …._

Everything I see—the stone agony and billowing redness.

_Everything I hear—the rumbling hell and muted screams._

_This is all **me**._

_**I** am all of it._

I exist.. …I am.. ….I live.. …I die… …

And everything suffers for it.

And everything that has ever been has ceased to be.

Everything I knew or ignored.

Everyone I met or missed.

The few I touched… …

The many more I never talked to… ..

The Titans.. …

The citizens.. …

The villains.. .. …

Every single one of them were always, are always, and shall always be this indivisible whole.

This tortured, wrapped-up ball of stone.

This screaming orb of truth—that I was a curse upon them from the very day I dared to persist in living.

_Everything the Temple of Azar taught me for._

Everything the Titans trained me for.

All that my years of lingering had stretched me for.

It has always been, always is, and will always be this.

This inescapable essence.

This **me**.

_And the **me** boils._

And the **me** burns.

_And the **me** strings helpless souls through eons, upon eons of churning nightmares._

Their agonized energies screaming down the funnels of life into my father's churning heart.

And he feeds on that very same torture that never quenches.

For he is eternal in **me**.. …as I am eternally bound by him.

And for such, I persist.

Just as I always have.

Living without living.

_Dying without dying._

_This wasteland.. … …_

This sulfuric continent…. ..

This forever **now**….

"Was it all j-just a glimpse?"

Dry lips.

Ashen air.

Feet shuffle.

Feet kick the thousandth stone of many thousand little stones into the lava rivers around me.

".. .. …the.. ….the microcosmic spectacle.. … …of _true life?"_

The four-eyed banshees.

The crumbling rock echoing the groans of my father.

The forever fumes.

"N-Nightwing.. … …_R-Robin.. …."_

Ember dust.

Demon claws on the rocks, rocks, rocks….

"Cyborg.. …… …Starfire.. .. …"

Burning streams.

Steam and ash and steam and ash…

".. ….Beast Boy.. … …. … … …. .. … .. …_T-Terra_… .. .. …"

I turn my dry head.

I gaze with drier eyes at the loops and arches and mountains of screaming stone.

Granite bodies.

Howling, marble mouths.

".. .. … ..w-will I ever f-find you in all this.. … ..?"

Flapping wings overhead.

Leather and blood.

Fangs.

And gone again.

".. … … …will it ever matter.. … .. ..?"

I have no answer to this.

Just like I have had no answer to it the previous million times I habitually spoke it out loud.

No answer… …--save for what is obvious.

_I am here.. …_

Forever here.. ….

_But this has always been true._

And this has always been… ..

… …_as I has always been._

And as such.. …

And as such, the torment was not torment alone.

For there was.. .. …**true** warmth sharing a piece of that essence.

There was joy to be had in torment.. … ..

There was peace to be had in chaos.. .. …

If even for the briefest of time, my damned existence was blessed--

And that time is only as brief as I remember it to be.

_**Remember** it to be.. .. …_

Do we truly remember things?

Or do we live them?

There is no backwards.

There is no forwards.

Time has had no bearing on my life, for one way or another my father still has consumed me.

He may have taunted and teased me beforehand with the battles he 'lost'.. …

But his will was made manifest as soon as I was born.

And as such—there was even joy to be had in his will.  


_And there is joy yet to be had in this nightmare._

Not so much 'joy'—but rather an extension of that which has always been.

For time is nothing, but even if it was something—Then joy beyond the constraints of the future is no more than hope.

And I.. …

I have always had hope.. …

Yes… ….yes……

'Hope' is something I have always had, and always will have.

For as much as torment is something I have always had, and always will have.

_Hell would not be Hell without 'hope'._

My face tightens.

In the fumes and the heat of my father's playground… …

I smile…

I hope.. ..

And I hope.. …

And I hope.. … …

And…oh… ..

How beautiful that hope is.. …

I shut my eyes.

Through the sulfuric waves, I spread my tortured arms out and…

Glide across the frozen, screaming mouths.

The vibrating intestinal agony gurgling around me.

Drifting.. …

Falling back…. …

Collapsing within myself….

This woman.

This girl.

This child.

This infant.

This seed….

A drop of blood.

A blossoming rose.

Thorned, yes, but—

--warm with every, every, every trickle.

"F-Friends.. … … …"

_I am there.. …_

I am there… … .. ….

_  
I am there… .. … … …._


	98. Then

﻿

When I cry in my sleep.

I feel it.

This end-all be-all in the blink of an eye.

It terrifies me.

It impregnates me.

It freezes me and sets me on fire all at once.

And I wouldn't be human… ..

No, I wouldn't be human.. …

Without a decent ounce of it.

Every night to keep the angels at bay.

And a promise—true, untrue, or sufficient—to touch their golden-glowing wings.

In the morning.


	99. Now

﻿

"Dude, just deal the cards!"

"I'm serious, little man! If you interrupt me one more time, I'm gonna—"

"Hang on—You can't even start dealing until Terra coughs up her cards!"

"Come onnnnnn, Terra! You're making me waste muscle energy when I could instead be practicing my poker face!"

"I-I'm trying to get them all in the right order! Sheesh! Just hang on a blasted second!"

"Heh.. …And I thought _Robin_ was the anal one."

"Watch it, Cyborg."

"Oh go blow your nose, Robbie."

"Please, explain. How could Robin be comparable to a rectum."

"Pfffft!"

"Hehehehehehe!"

"Dude! Did she just say what I think she said?"

"It's.. …erm.. …a m-manner of expression, Star. _And not a very good one!"_

"Well it's true, dawg!"

"So you are not a rectum--?"

"Starfire, do you need help with your cards?"

"I am attempting to locate my most exemplary of fish species!"

"Uhhh—Yeah. J-Just give them to Cyborg and we'll start a new game."

"Where on Earth did you pick this collection up, Beast Boy? Is this the new Pokemon-Replacement or something?"

"Terra—_Seriously_—NOTHING beats Elemental Blasters!"

"That ain't the name."

"Yeah it is!"

"It's _Alchemania_, ya dumbass!"

"AHEM.. …Cyborg, not around the table."

"Yeah, Starfire might start thinking about 'rectums' again. Hehehe—"

"H-Huh?"

"Just give him the car—"

"OH! My sincerest apologies, Cyborg. By all means, continue your expert manipulation of the deck, only with my paraphernalia added to the mixture."

"And Terra's too—_Come on, Terra! Get your butt in gear!"_

"I am! For crying out loud—Here you go, Cyborg."

"Heh, thanks, Missy."

"Besides.. … ._I haven't got a butt—"_

"What was that? The earth maiden muttering a selfish statement, I hear?"

"Oh hush! Hehehe—Not at the table with everyone else."

"Heeheehee! Do splendidly display your amorous affection for each other before all!"

"Like I haven't had enough of that in the back of my blasted T-Car. Robin, what are the rules this time?"

"I win. I take all."

"Ha-Ha-Ha. Very funny. Now let's be serious—"

"What? I _always_ win!"

"We started out with equal collections this time, man! How do you explain having won that?"

"This is the first time we played this game! Face it, Cyborg. I'm going to smoke you."

"He is our veteran leader, after all."

"Way to go being a cheerleader, Star."

"I beg of your pardon?"

"Okay, before we all suffer any low-blows… …**I WILL** make the rules."

"Hrmph…. ….By all means, Cyborg. _If you want to cheat._"

"I don't have to cheat to whoop your ass—"

"_Rectum!"_

"—Rectum! _Thanks, Star."_

"Heeheeheee!"

"Let's just play normal rules. Four Quadrants of Consummation. Cyclical Relationship of weaker-and-lesser elements. Blah blah blah—"

"Yeah, yak away. We need a sixth player to make this REALLY wicked cool!"

"Oh you don't mean—"

"HEY RAE! RAAAAVEN!" Beast Boy props himself up on the table of the Main Room and waves his arm wildly. "We need another hand!"

Cyborg's head glistens in the daylight as he turns and smiles. "Yeah, cutie! We're just _DYING_ to see YOUR poker face!"

"Hehehe—Yeah, Raven!" Terra waves. "This should interesting."

"Please! Do bless us with your rapturous presence!"

"Only if you're up to it, Raven… …," Robin adds.

I look up from my book. Sitting on a stool besides the kitchen counter. Bored violet eyes blinking. I drone:

"Do you even _need_ to ask me to know my answer?"

"Pffft," Terra waves defeatedly. "Spoil sport."

"Uh uh uh!" Beast Boy pouts. "You ain't getting away that easil—"

"**Yes I am.**"

".. … …awww phoeey."

"Why do you never desire to join us in our pleasant reverie, friend Raven?" Starfire looks sad.

"Because I was born."

"Hey, let her be…. ….," Cyborg shrugs and finishes shuffling his cards. "She'll come only when she's read."

"Heheheh… …Yeah. 'Now or never'."

"Whatever. Time to deal."

"All right! Let's DO this!"

"Calm down, Robin. This isn't your honeymoon."

"Ew, okay dude—NO."

"Hehehehe."

"Heeee! Please! I look forward to my fish!"

"Er—Yeah. You'll get that."

"Just deal already, Cyborg."

"I am! I am! Sheesh.. .. …"

I flip a page.

I flip another page.

I.. .. …

My finger lingers.

My throat is sore.

I bite my lip.

I look up.. … up.. ….

Slowly up.. …

I gaze at them… …

At all five.. .. ..

The circle of friends.. …

My teammates.. ….

The Titans.. .. …

Cyborg, giving everyone verbal support.

Terra, smiling and being cute.

Starfire and her innocence radiating.

Beast Boy and his kindliness teasing.. …

Robin and his confidence inspiring.. … … … …

And I sit.. …. …

And I stare.. … ..

And yes… .. ..

_Yes.. .. …_

I am.. .. ..

I am smiling… … ..

For there is nothing more absurd.. … ..then all of eternity making sense in the temporal.

All of the joy that there is ever to be had in one instant.

It is so blatantly rich and decadent that I am forced to resist it.

But to what extent?

It has proven that it will never resist me.

**They** have proven that they will never resist me.

And in all of eternity.

Here.

There.

Then.

Now.

_That they have given me so much as a second glance.. …_

If not even a third or a fourth or a fifth. … ..

When I didn't so much as reach or beckon for them in the first place.. .. …

Well.. .. …

I can only wonder.. … ..

Nay, I can only **marvel**.. …

I can only speculate in absurd joy just what it is that they see in me and what it is that they hear of me that makes me worth so much as a blessed thought.

And here I am.

Right now.

Right now—For there is no other bleeding part of me that makes greater sense… ..or earns greater worth.. …or merits greater virtue… …. …

Then right here and now in the midst of them… …

_As I _walk up and slide into the booth alongside them—

"Count me in…."

Everyone gives me a double-glance. Seven eyes, an eyemask, and a red dot blinking.

"You.. .. …Y-You wanna join us, Raven?"

"Yeah.. …," I smile ever so slightly. "Why not?"

**"… .. … … …"** Cyborg, Starfire, Terra, Beast Boy, and Robin all stare at me. **"… … . … …"**

"… .. .. …," I glare at them with a frown and mutter: _"What?_ It's a free Tower, isn't it?"

"Whew."

"Okay.. …."

"Eheheheh…."

"Well, alright!" Cyborg starts dealing. "Just had to make sure it was the real Raven for a second there."

Cards are flung to me. I grasp them and slide them off the table into my hand. "Really, Cyborg… … …when am I _not_ me?"

"You got that right, cutie!"

"Raven.. …the predictable," Terra mutters.

"Terra, the twig," I return.

"Hoooooo-Ho-Ho-Ho!" Cyborg laughs, slapping the desk.

"Hehehehehe!" Starfire giggles.

Beast Boy winks at Terra. "She got _you good!"_

"Pfft….," Terra rolls her eyes and hides a grin. "That was too easy."

"As long as you admit it—" Robin begins--

"OKAY, LET'S JUST START THE GAME SO THAT ROBIN CAN SHUT UP AND WIN, OKAY?" Terra cackles.

Everyone laughs.

Everyone but me.

I can suffice with simply.. ….

_Basking._

Like I always have.

Always.

Truly.. .. ..truly.. .. …always around each and every one of them.. .. ..

"Okay.. …," Cyborg shuffles and nods his head. "Let's begin with you, Terra."

"Allrighty!" Terra slaps her card down onto the table. "Wood!"

I respond with: "Fire beats wood." _Slap!_

Cyborg grins: "But Water beats Fire!" _Slap!_

"Sun dries up Water!" Beast Boy slaps…

And Robin: "And Thunderstorm blocks out Sun.. …"

The table is silent for half a second.

An eternity in the blink of my eyes.

An ocean in the space of my ears.

Everyone turns and looks at me.

I raise my hands.

"I'm out."


	100. Fin

﻿

It is snowing outside.

The world is white to gray to cold blue.

I sit on the edge of my bed, hugging my knees.

Nightgowned and neglected.

Alone….

_Alone… …._

I am not sleeping.

I am not waking.

I am not anything but existing.

My small fingers hold to small knees to a small chest.

These violet eyes.. … …narrow with confusion and clarity at the same time.

Breathing in.. …

Breathing out.. ….. …

Breathing in.. … .. … ..

Breathing out.. .. . …

And…

The flakes…--

My violets dart to the side.

My lips purse.

The wide-stretching windows.

The frost.

The frozen ash gently, gently, gently falling.

The cold blue waters and glittering City beyond.

The endless, inviting death of dark night swallowing the cosmos into silence.

I stand up.. …

I walk away from the bed.

I approach the stretch of glass.

The snow drifting beyond.

The iciness that life tries to deny.. …

I walk up—

And I press my hand to the glass.

_So cold.. …._

I exhale.

I shut my eyes.

I press my entire body against the glass window and embrace the snowed world.

_So very cold.. …._

So very still.. … .. ….

_Only me and the Other—and yet Alone._

"So horrifyingly beautiful.. … .."

A tear.

A smile.

A frown.

A sigh.. …

…. …and a drone.

"So horrifyingly beautiful.. … .."

And it drifts.

And it drifts.

And it drifts.

And it.. .. .. .. … ..

--

--

--

--

--

--

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
